Lost in Thedas: A Journey Between Heaven and Earth
by Ella SilverDewDrop
Summary: Diora lives a perfectly ordinary, present-day life until an evil sorcerer Uldred uses a magic mirror to draw her into the world of Thedas to use her as a sacrifice! What is her connection to Thedas? What destiny awaits her there? She embarks on an epic quest to find answers and a way home, but have her growing feelings for the Grey Wardens Alistair Therin become too much?
1. Chapter 1

**Lost in Thedas**

**Chapter One: Ominous Reflections**

The four girls could be heard laughing and chatting away as they walked towards the restaurant where they had made reservations for the night. It was a soft, warm summer's evening. The sounds of the conversations of those around them and the swish of cars coming and going pass them on the street all blended together in the background as the gentle air enveloped them.

They made an eye-catching ensemble, each girl with her own strengths and personality.

Kirsti, the eldest and tallest, had a lean, athletic figure and loved to dress her tone legs in miniskirts and short shorts. Tonight, she happened to be wearing a pair of black shorts paired with black stilettos and a flowy deep blue shirt that played off her long, dark blonde locks and enhanced her sapphire eyes. After years of self consciously walking around at a height of six feet, she confidently flaunted her height, with the encouragement of her friends. She was the protector of the group, having spent many a days on the playground being the bully who bullied the bullies (only if and when they deserved it, of course!).

Farah was a live version of Snow White, with delicate features, a fair ivory complexion, perpetually rosy-red lips, and long, ebony hair. And she was rich! Her mother was a successful fashion designer and her father was a congressman. One could always expect her to dress to impress in high end fashion labels, red-soled shoes, and she was never without a designer clutch. She was ever so sophisticated. Even as others looked on jealousy, her friends knew that deep down, even all the beautiful clothes and shoes and purses in the world couldn't fill the void Farah felt when her parents were too busy attending to business meetings and political press events.

Lucy was as angelic in nature as she was in her looks. Her golden curls and vivid green eyes. The sweet white lace dress she wore to this occasion suited her perfectly. She was a dreamer, and perpetually tried to look at every situation from a positive light. Yes, there were those who would try to take advantage of dear Lucy's sweet nature. Luckily for her, she had a great support group that was always looking out for her.

Though all eyes of passersby were on these ladies tonight, these three aforementioned only had eyes for the birthday girl, who was to celebrate her eighteenth birthday tonight. Diora, the youngest and shortest of the group—and also it's brainchild (she was a bookworm and a scholar). Surprisingly enough, she had met each one of her friends after volunteering to tutor them in whatever subject it was they were having difficulty in. She really was the common link in the group. Once they got past Diora's obsession for excelling at studies, Kristi, Farah, and Lucy all realized that beneath that intimidatingly smart exterior was a patient and kind-hearted girl who didn't quite realize how amazing she was. Diora would often joke that since she really wasn't athletic, or sophisticated, or strikingly beautiful like her friends, studying was all she had going for her. (Her friends would beg to differ, of course!).

Tonight, Diora had opted to wear a little black dress that still had the unintended effect of accentuating her burgeoning soft curves. Her friends had talked her into letting her long, wavy, chocolate-colored tresses down tonight—she usually pulled it back into a ponytail or a bun—and they had even managed to persuade her to celebrate this occasion with a fluffy black boa wrapped around her shoulders, too.

"Look! What's this?!" asked Farah, pointing across the street. "Is that shop new?"

They gazed in the direction Farah was pointing in and saw a tiny, ratty little shop with a neon red hand and a neon blue ball shining in the glass window.

"The Fortune Teller," Diora read the green lettering above the red door. She furrowed her delicate eyebrows, and her wide, thoughtful blue-grey eyes studied the little shop. She was suddenly aware of Lucy tugging on her arm and pulling her across the street. "Wait! What are you doing, Lucy?!" she asked in a near panic.

"It's your birthday! Let's go and see what this year has in store for you!" Lucy smiled.

"Wait! Now, I don't believe in this stuff!" said Diora, attempting to resist Lucy.

"C'mon, what's the harm," Kristi agreed with Lucy. "It might be fun!"

"And we still have time before the reservations at the restaurant," Farah added hopefully.

Diora looked at her group of friends and sighed, exasperated. "Fine," she relented, "but you guys had better treat me to some of that salted caramel cheesecake that I'm so fond of!"

* * *

"WHAT THE HELL WAS UP WITH THAT FORTUNE TELLER?!"

The four girls had just finished dinner. Their waiter returned to their table with dessert and fruity non-alcoholic drinks (as none of them were old enough to drink legally).

"Now, don't get mad, Diora," Kristi attempted to soothe her friend's frazzled nerves. "Here you go, birthday girl. Here's that salted caramel cheesecake you've been dreaming of all night."

Diora pursed her lips and skeptically arched her left eyebrow. Studying the helping of yumminess in front of her, she begrudgingly took the plate and lifted a forkful of cheesecake into her mouth. Though it did taste scrumptious, even the savory, creamy blend of sweet caramel, thick chocolate, and gritty saltiness in her mouth couldn't assuage her irritation and uneasiness at what had happened earlier that evening.

"Doesn't it taste wonderful? Try it with some of the cordial here." Lucy offered Diora a glass of the restaurant's home-pressed raspberry cordial. She felt terribly guilty for what had happened at the fortune teller's shop and was trying to do her best to take her friend's mind off it.

"It's delicious, thank you," replied Diora. Though, not to be put off, she continued ranting on, "But that's why I didn't want my fortune told! I don't know if those things are true or not, but that lady said was really creepy!"

She shuddered as she recalled the fortune teller's beady black eyes, the dry, crinkly face, and those gnarled hands that had been hovering above the crystal ball. She could still hear that low, raspy voice penetrating her thoughts,_ "The inevitable time is soon to come, be it for good or evil. Your spirit dances under the moon of uncertainty as your star shines ever more into the dominion of the Red Dragon. Your reflection is cast in the mirror of illusion, darkness, and blood…"_

"But didn't she also tell you that you would be rescued by your destined true love?" asked Lucy, trying to cheer up Diora.

Diora turned to her angelic, golden-haired friend, her jaw dropping incredulously. "How—HOW— do you even interpret that from what that disturbing hag said?!" she demanded, blatantly annoyed.

"What was it she said again, exactly?" Farah questioned, before scooping the final bite of cheesecake off her plate.

"She said, _'Fate will lead you to one who is destined to stand vigilant in the shadows, and he will be your savior.' _"

"Well, I can see how Lucy got the true love thing out of that," Kristi remarked thoughtfully.

"Frankly, there's nothing remotely romantic about someone lurking in the shadows! Besides, that would distract me from getting into Yale University, so I don't need a boyfriend right now! And if I did have one, he would need to be handsome, taller than me, kind, whole-hearted, honest, and brave. And those are the first ones to run out, damn it!" Diora exclaimed, pounding her fist on the table in frustration.

The startling, dull thud, followed by the sounds of upset plates and tinkling silverware drew unwanted attention to the young ladies' table. Diora's cheeks flushed. She smiled sheepishly and waved to the old couple glaring at her from across the aisle. She had forgotten they were in a public restaurant.

"Please, please, calm down!" Kristi whispered in a hushed tone, as the patrons around them grumbled about "lack of manners," "rude teenagers," and "overdramatic girls."

Lucy, always trying to be positive, suggested, "Well, it would be good if you met a guy. After all, you turn eighteen today, and out of our group, you're the only one who's never had a boyfriend!"

"You don't need to rely on a silly fortune to guide you or get you a boyfriend," Farah told her friend matter-of-factly. Then, an inspiration suddenly dawned on her. "I know! Let's spend this next weekend at my parents' lake house! I'll have Garrett invite some of his friends over, too. Maybe you'll click with one of them."

Diora, welcoming the change of topic, smiled and nodded in agreement. "That sounds like fun. And you're right. Some silly fortune teller can't really predict what will happen to me in the future," she tried to reassure herself.

And yet, as she gazed at her reflection in the mirror on the restaurant's wall, she couldn't shake off that lingering shadow of doubt that something bad was about to happen…

* * *

Somewhere, across the universe of space and time, Uldred gazed into the Eluvian mirror and observed the world that existed even beyond The Fade. It was through great difficulty that he had been able to acquire such a treasure and conceal it from the other mages and the templars. Though he had not yet completely mastered it, the Eluvian had allowed him to delve even more deeply into study of the dark arts and blood magic. The Ancient One in The Fade with which he communed had revealed to him this world free of chains and magical subjugation.

A world in which he could be a god.

Who could have thought that a world full of such wonders could be real? Even amongst the most devout mages in The Circle Tower, the whispered rumors of such a world existed. But that was all it had been—rumors.

Until now.

Ah, yes. And there she was: the key to his rise to ultimate power.

Her image rippled on the surface of the mirror as he caressed her slim, graceful neck. He imagined that the vulnerable, naked flesh there would feel as silky and warm as petals bathing under the gentle rays of the spring sun. He could almost feel her pulse, gently beating there, under the delicate curve of her jaw line. His eyes narrowed and turned cold as he envisioned himself ruthlessly ripping into that ivory column with his dagger.

Her blood: the Eluvian had revealed that it was the final ingredient he needed to achieve his dark curse and open a portal into her world. As the hot, red blood flowed freshly out of her dying body, his dream would be born to life.

Uldred watched silently as the girl in the vision laughed with her friends. It almost a shame, that such a beautiful, innocent creature should be sacrificed to fulfill his dark desires.

Almost.

"Soon, my little one, soon," he promised himself. Whispering into the girl's reflection, his black eyes met her blue-grey ones, "On the dawn after a moonless night, when the Golden Star in the eastern morning sky aligns with the Eye of the Red Dragon constellation."

* * *

"Congratulations!"

"What's all this?" Diora asked her parents and younger brother. She was pleasantly surprised at the feast awaiting her at the table when she came down for breakfast. All of her favorite breakfast foods: coffee éclairs, bourbon raisin bread, raspberry jam, crepes with Nutella spread, eggs benedict, honey smoked bacon (extra crisped), and an assortment of delectable fresh berries.

"We wanted to celebrate your acceptance into Yale University!" her mother beamed at her.

"We're so proud of you and the hard work you put into getting there," her father added.

The package had arrived through the post last night. Diora, of course, had been ecstatic. She couldn't wait to share the news with her friends later today in class. They would all be heading over to Farah's parents' lake house tomorrow morning. So much had happened in just a week! She turned eighteen, had actually been asked out on a date by one of Garrett's friends (and would be hanging out with him at the lake house this weekend), and found out she would be heading to Yale in the fall!

_'Take that, fortune teller!'_ she triumphantly thought to herself.

Her thirteen-year-old brother Teddy grabbed a slice of the bourbon raisin bread, and in between bites, said to her, "You'd better watch out. So many good things have been happening to you lately, you just might get struck by lightning or hit by a car or something."

"Teddy! That's a terrible thing to say!" their father reprimanded.

Not to be fazed, Diora told her family confidently, "If I could handle the entrance exams and interviews for Yale, I'm sure I can handle anything the world has to throw at me."

"Oh, honey, I forgot to grab the orange juice. Can you get it out of the fridge for me, please?"

Diora nodded at her mom. Humming to herself, she skipped across the kitchen and towards the refrigerator. She passed an ornate, decorative oval mirror hanging on the wall next to the fridge, and she caught something out of the corner of her eye which caused her to abruptly skid to a halt.

_'That's funny,'_ she thought to herself. For a split second, for sure she had seen a misty grey fog swirling and distorting her reflection. Diora studied it, silently willing the mirror to do it again. Her troubled eyes turned the color of a grey sky on a cloudy day and a heavy sigh escaped from her full lips.

"I'm just imagining things and letting that old witch get to me," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head. Orange juice in hand, she plastered a bright smile on her face and hopped back over to join her family for breakfast.

* * *

"Mirrors just don't fog up and ripple like that," Diora tried to reassure herself that evening as she stepped out of the hot shower.

"_Your reflection is cast in the mirror of illusion, darkness, and blood…"_

She shivered upon remembering those ominous words and wrapped herself up in a thick towel that had been warming up in the towel warmer. They had been haunting her all day, even in class. She'd been so distraught that she blanked out during a pop quiz in Calculus I and had gotten a 97% instead of the usual 100%! Just to prove a point to herself, she stared at her hazy reflection in the bathroom mirror. The girl on the other side raised her own hand up against the mirror's surface as Diora's fingers squeaked across it.

"See, Diora, you're just imagining things," she chided her reflection. It all suddenly seemed so silly that she started giggling to herself.

Her reflection's chuckling smile rippled and blurred turned into a sinister grin as another face replaced it! Diora gasped as a bright white light gashed across the glass surface beneath her fingers. A disembodied hand reached out of the portal. It snatched tightly around her wrist in a painful grasp!

A scream escaped from her lips. The toiletries that had been neatly placed on the bathroom counter scattered all across the tile floor. The hand was trying to pull her into the mirror!

"NO! LET—ME—GO!" she cried through gritted teeth. She resisted with all her might, but it was no use. The hand was too strong! She was up to her shoulder in the mirror now. She closed her eyes and braced for the worst…

"Sissy, what's wrong?!" Teddy shouted as he burst through the bathroom door. His cheeks suddenly flushed several shades of crimson red.

"Eh?!" Diora's eyes blinked opened. She was suddenly very aware of the right side of her face pressed hard against the still pulsating glass and the cold air brushing up against her naked flesh. She looked down and saw the thick terry towel in a pool around her ankles.

"AGH! YOU LITTLE PERVERT!" her scream reverberated throughout the house.

* * *

"I'm sure about it!" Diora insisted to her parents later that night.

Her mom's eyes clouded over with concern. "Honey, you've been under a lot of stress with all your studying lately."

Her dad nodded in agreement. "Use your common sense, Diora. It was probably just your mind playing tricks on you," he reassured her.

"No, it wasn't!" cried Diora.

"I'm always telling you not to take such hot showers. The heat probably got to you," added her mom. "Now just you get into bed. You're still going to be at Farah's lake house this weekend, and I think it will be a good distraction for you."

"You can apologize to Teddy tomorrow morning. And get your act together and take that ridiculous blanket off your mirror!" instructed her father, nodding over to where she had used a fluffy pink comforter to cover up her easel-backed mirror.

Her parents walked out of her bedroom. In a somewhat childish behavior, she made a face at their retreating backs, simultaneously pulling down her right eyelid and sticking out her tongue. "Fine! Don't believe me! I'll just have to protect myself and keep away from any mirrors from now on!" she sulked.

* * *

"Don't forget your toiletries," Diora's mom reminded her the following morning. "Hurry up and finish getting ready, the girls will be here in a few minutes!"

"I know, Mom!" grumbled Diora, who was finishing up packing her things into a duffle bag. She did slept well the previous night. She had been plagued with nightmares of bloody and disembodied hands crawling up her body, being lost in a hallway of endless mirrors, and a creepy, faceless man trying to steal her away into the shadows.

One source of comfort for her was that her bedroom mirror, which she had her back to at the moment, was still covered up. _'Although it will be difficult to live without being able to look at myself in a mirror… No matter, I'll figure that out later after the trip weekend," _she thought.

"Honey, let's stop with this silliness," her mom tried to persuade her. She walked over to the mirror and placed a hand on the comforter.

"NO, Mom!" panicked Diora, suddenly turning to look over her shoulder.

Mom relented and took her hands off the blanket. She shook her head and sighed in wonder as she walked out the room.

"Whew! It's off to the lake for the weekend!" breathed a relieved Diora. She turned back around and zipped up her duffle bag.

She hadn't heard the gentle rustling of the comforter as it slid slowly off the mirror…

She didn't see the bright white light ripping across the swirly, undulating glass surface…

She couldn't even scream out as one hand closed up over her lips and the other wrapped itself around her waist, whisking her away from the only world she had ever known.

**End of Chapter One**


	2. Chapter 2: The Savior

**Lost in Thedas**

**Chapter Two: The Savior**

_Recap: Diora has just found out that she got accepted into Yale Univerisity. She is ecstatic, and yet darkness looms over her happiness as strange events start happening to her. When grabbing orange juice from the kitchen, she notices a strange shadow blur across her reflection in the kitchen mirror. After taking a shower that night, a disembodied hand rips out of the bathroom mirror and attempts to pull her in! Her parents don't believe her stories. The next morning, while she is packing for her weekend at the lake, the blanket covering her bedroom mirror slides off, and Diora is whisked away towards her destiny!_

* * *

"I've got you this time, girl," a voice as cold as ice echoed from the mirror.

_'OMIGOD! This is really happening! I'm being dragged in!'_ Diora thought as the blinding white light enveloped her.

She was now being dragged through a swirling abyss of violet, black, and grey. The roaring sound of waves crashing in the darkness filled her ears. The air around her was thick, acrid, and crushing, like being trapped in a room of poisonous gas. Her muffled screams were to no avail, and she fought against will to free herself from the arms that tightened like a noose around her body.

Slowly, in the distance, a white doorway appeared in the darkness. Its light was bright, yet cold and harsh. She was being pulled towards that door! Something in her heart warned her that she must not go through that door! As she got closer to it, Diora was vaguely aware that her body no longer felt as though it were being squeezed through a wormhole. The air felt lighter, and she breathed easier. This gave her a renewed strength. Realizing this might be her only chance to escape, she started bucking and screaming, pounding and clawing at the arms wrapped around her.

And then, she was suddenly free!

Diora swam away as quickly as she could from the hands, which were now violently grasping at her feet. "No, let me go!" she cried out, kicking wildly at them. She looked up and saw another light glowing above her. It was more of a small window rather than a doorway, its yellow rays softer and warmer than those of the doorway.

Hope surged in her heart. She grit her teeth and swam in a final, desperate lunge towards the light.

* * *

"NNNOOOO!" Uldred screamed into the Eluvian as his prey disappeared from sight. He bit his lips in anger, ignoring the sharp pain and the metallic taste of blood.

He had been so close! Just a few more seconds, and he would have had her before him in flesh and blood. He cursed himself for having let his guard down, for being fooled by his confidence into believing he had her in his clutches. He hadn't expected her to be so strong or put up such a fight.

"No matter," he tried to console himself. "I'm sure I've pulled her into Thedas. The Eluvian will guide me to where she emerges."

Uldred looked down at his bloody hands and clenched them into fists as he cast a healing spell on them. For now, he could only watch her from the Eluvian. He would need time to recuperate before attempting another spell to draw the girl to him. The summoning spell's requirement of blood had taken a considerable toll on his constitution. Even his blood, he knew, had not been enough to draw her from her own world to Thedas. The only reason the summoning spell had worked was because SHE was the one who had been called upon. It was the sacred and unknown power of the blood flowing in HER veins that had made the summoning possible.

* * *

Alistair, dressed in his newly crafted Grey Warden-heraldry-emblazoned suit of armor, held his head up high as he and Duncan walked out of Wade's Emporium in Denerim's Market District. Just a mere three weeks ago, he had been hopelessly resigned to live out his life as a templar, a fate which he had often considered worse than death. That was before the tourney the Chantry had held in honor of Warden-Commander Duncan's visit. The day of the tourney had marked a defining moment in Alistair's life. It was the day Duncan had recruited him into the Grey Wardens. Even then, the Grand Cleric had been reluctant to give him up, and Duncan had been forced to use the Right of Conscription.

It had been the happiest day of Alistair's life.

He was no longer Alistair, the bastard child whose existence had been a burden and a potential threat to the country. He was now Alistair, a proud Grey Warden, upon whose shoulders the fate of Ferelden rested with the looming Blight of which Duncan and the other Grey Wardens had spoken…

"Alistair…Alistair…!"

Duncan's voice woke Alistair from his reverie. Alistair blinked a few times and turned to face his mentor and leader. "Oh-yes! Yes, Duncan," he replied, clearing his throat. His embarrassment was apparent despite his best attempts to now appear attentive.

Duncan chuckled at the newest and youngest member to join the brotherhood. How young he was! And still naive, in his own way. Despite the fact that Alistair had been bested thrice in the tourney, Duncan had admired Alistair's character most above all the templars present. He had sensed that this young man had a good, loyal, and courageous heart— qualities that were just as important as a strong sword arm when it came to being a Grey Warden.

Duncan continued, "I have business with King Cailan at the palace. If you'd like, you may remain here in the Market District for the time being. You may meet up with me and the others at the inn later this evening if you wish."

Alistair paused, pondering Duncan's suggestion. "It _would_ be nice to stay here and walk around a bit. Yes, actually, I was thinking of visiting The Wonders of Thedas. Arl Eamon took me there the last time he brought me here as a child, and he bought me a miniature golem doll…"

Duncan laughed and nodded. "It's settled, then. I'll meet you at the inn later tonight."

Alistair watched Duncan head towards the gates and couldn't help feeling an overwhelming, surreal sense of gratefulness sweep over him. That man had saved his life. He would always thankful for that. Duncan disappeared into the bustling crowd of the marketplace. Alistair, humming to himself and half admiring his new Grey Warden shield, turned and made his way towards The Wonders of Thedas.

* * *

Diora gasped for air as she broke through the light. She landed on an unforgiving, cold, hard surface and winced in pain. Something dull and heavy hit her in between the shoulders, knocking the breath out of her. She turned to look, and even in her shocked, dazed state she could see that the thing which had hit her was…her duffle bag?

A sudden, piercing scream and a flurry of footsteps and commotion drew Diora's attention to her new surroundings. Diora's blue-grey eyes blinked a few times and widened in shock. _'Where…?! Where am I?!'_ she thought alarmingly. She quickly assessed that she was an exotic antique store of sorts, but everyone was dressed in what appeared to be medieval clothing! And they were all cowering around her, staring back at her with horrified expressions on their faces. She grew faint as a crushing sensation tightened around her chest.

"Maker, help us! She came out of the mirror!" shouted a young man garbed in flowing robes.

"Momma, what is it?!" cried a little boy, hiding behind his mother's skirts.

"A demon! Andraste's mercy!" exclaimed an older man, pointing an accusing finger at her.

"Help! Where are the templars! Call for the templars!" started screaming a lady who was dressed in a fine gown.

_'Wait? Are they calling ME a demon?! Omigod—OMIGOD! I have to get out of here!'_ Diora scrambled to her feet and snatched her duffle bag off the floor. Breathing in quick, panting gasps, she made a run for the door at the front of the store.

The crowd screamed and quickly parted a way for her. No one dared to touch this demon girl that had appeared from that old, rusty mirror in the back of the store. One minute, the whole store had been blinded in a bright, golden light. The next thing everyone knew, this abomination had emerged through the glass surface!

"This isn't my bedroom! What is this place?!" Diora asked herself, flinging the door wide open and running into the bustling alley. She noticed the curious stares and pointing fingers of those she passed on the cobblestone street.

She skid to a halt at the end of the alley.

Her jaw dropped when she saw the lively market square in front of her. In a trancelike state, Diora slowly turned around in a complete circle to take in the scene before her. A throng of people, a spectacular awakening of a busy hive. Unfolding to greet the glorious morning, windows flung open as shop keepers almost simultaneously opened up their linear array of shops, exposing the colorful interiors and filling the streets with the exuberance of life. Children laughing and playing in the square… Cats chasing after one another... In tents, textile merchants were showing off their cloths to the ladies… The fresh aroma of a baker's sweet, buttery perfume filled her senses…

"WHERE THE HELL AM I?! This is a dream! It has to be a dream!" She shook her head and closed her eyes. "When I open my eyes, I'll be back in my bedroom…! Everything will be back to normal!"

"There she is! The demon girl who appeared at The Wonders of Thedas!"

"Halt, in the name of the Maker!"

Diora gasped as the armed guards started running at her. The carried shields emblazoned with a fiery sun, and their swords gleamed coldly in the morning light. She pinched herself, hard. "HURRY UP AND WAKEUP!" she screamed in sheer panic when nothing happened.

She was left with no other choice than to run as fast as she could away from the soldiers. Fighting back tears, and holding tightly onto her duffle bag, which she had strapped across her shoulders, as though it were a shield she desperately pushed her way into the crowd.

* * *

Alistair could hear the commotion as he made his way over to The Wonders of Thedas. "What could be going on, I wonder?" he pondered quietly. An image of darkspawn appearing in Denerim's marketplace suddenly flashed in his mind, and he instinctively reached for his sword. He was just imagining himself as the hero of the day, saving the marketplace from an attack, when a young woman squeezed through the group of people in front of him and ran smack dab right into him!

Before Diora could cry out, a pair of strong hands swiftly reached out around her arms and steadied her. "No! Let me go!" she pleaded, struggling to free herself from the stranger's grasp. Fearing that she had been captured, she looked up, lips trembling. The hot tears she had been holding back burned a pair of hot trails down her cheeks.

Alistair was completely blindsided by this young girl who had nearly knocked the both of them over. She was of petite stature, not even reaching his shoulders, with flowing dark hair. He gasped when his own hazel brown eyes gazed down into the young woman's. He had never seen a pair of eyes like hers before. They were like the color of Lake Calenhad on a stormy day. Something about them tugged at his heartstrings, and though he could not explain why, he immediately felt the urge to protect her.

He looked over the heads of the crowd and could see a pair of templars quickly making their way towards them. Searching for the girl, no doubt. His eyes hardened in resolve.

Diora gasped as the young man tugged her arm and pulled her into a different alleyway. He brought a gloved finger up to her tremulous lips, motioning for her to be quiet. He whipped the canvas off an empty tent next to them and pulled it over her, using it and his body to conceal her from view as the soldiers ran by them.

"I think she ran over there!"

"Quickly, don't lose her!"

Diora's heart had been pounding so loudly, for sure she thought the soldiers would've heard and found her! She couldn't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief and collapsed into a heap in the alleyway. She glanced up at the young man, unsure about what to do next.

Alistair knelt down next to the girl and gently, he asked her, "Who are you? Where are you from?" He reached up to pull the canvas from her face. She flinched, and Alistair immediately held up both his hands and leaned back away from her. "There's no need to worry. I promise, I won't hurt you."

Diora studied him, not knowing whether or not she could trust him. Like those who had beem chasing her, he, too, wore a suit of armor, yet his shield carried an emblem of a white and blue lion with wings...a griffon...! He had a handsome, chiseled face with strong features. A wide forehead with thick brows and honey colored, dark blond hair, cut short. His golden light brown eyes seemed warm and trustworthy enough. He smiled kindly at her, and she thought to herself that she certainly would have been head over heels if she had met such a guy back home.

"Why are the templars chasing you?" Alistair continued to question her.

_'Templars,'_ thought Diora, _'the men who were chasing after me are templars…Did you save me from them…does that make you my savior…?'_

"You certainly are strange…" Alistair mused aloud. "Anyway, my name is Alistair. What's your name? And why in the Maker's blessed name are you in the marketplace in such a state of undress, wearing nothing but a shift?"

Diora, who was dressed in what she considered to be a very modest white sundress, inwardly took offense to this. What would this guy think if she told him that she was from a different world entirely? That she had appeared into his world just this very morning by coming out of a mirror? She desperately wanted to tell this Alistair everything, but...NO! He, too, would believe she was crazy! Or worse yet, he would think she was a demon as the others had! She couldn't trust him! She couldn't trust anyone! Even if he had been her savior…!

She shook her head, holding back desperate tears. In a move and with a burst of strength that surprised Alistair, she pushed him away from her. Quickly rising to her feet, she threw off the canvas and ran back into the market square.

"Hey! Wait!" Alistair shouted, picking himself up and trying to run after her.

A merchant wagon rolled out in front of him, blocking her from his view. By the time he ran around it, she was gone.

* * *

"I can't trust anyone…! Why was I brought here?!" Diora cried to herself, trying to lose herself in the crowd, not knowing where she was even running to. She just needed to get out! She wanted to be back home!

"Eek! It's that girl who came out of the mirror!"

"Over there! It's her!"

"Catch her!"

"NOOOOO! Please!" sobbed Diora as the templars caught her and painfully gripped her arms.

"It's off to Aeonar with you! Attempt to do anything, and we will not hesitate to cut you down!" one of the templars threatened her as they dragged her away.

_'MOM! DAD! OH, GOD! SOMEBODY, PLEASE SAVE ME!"_

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Chapter 3: A Waking Nightmare

**Lost in Thedas**

**Chapter Three: A Waking Nightmare**

Diora was much the worse for wear, having endured a punishing day riding in a rickety prison wagon and listening to its constant screeching, ungreased wheels. Her cheeks were grimy from road dust and stained with streaks from the tears that had flowed earlier. The once snow-white sundress was soiled with dirt and its hem frayed in several places. An evening cold was slowly creeping in, chilling her to the bones. Her body ached everywhere, and she longed for the heat of a hot bath to warm her up and soothe her sore muscles. Hopelessness, hunger, cold, and a foul countryside stench akin to that of garbage and wet dogs sank her already drooping spirits.

The three templars who captured her had stopped at a farmhouse for the night. They locked up the prison wagon (and her along with it) in a barn. She could hear them outside, reassuring each other that the anti-magic wards they'd placed on the building would prevent her from using any magic to escape.

_'This is what it must have felt like to be accused of witchcraft back in the Middle Ages,_' Diora thought miserably to herself. The thought of her using magic to escape was so preposterous that she would have laughed at it were she not in her own wretched situation right now. It all seemed so primeval, this alien, time-warped, backwards world where people believed in magic, demons, and witches! "Having magic to escape this nightmare trap and be back home in the 21st century would be nice," she mused bitterly.

Then it occurred to her that perhaps she did a way back home…!

Magic might not exist in the real world, but here…! In addition to capturing her, the templars had also confiscated the mirror from which she surfaced. They were planning on delivering it to a Circle of Magi, whatever that was, on their way to transporting her to a prison called Aeonar, where—it made her sick to her stomach to think of this—they would execute her. They had taken the mirror, along with her duffle bag, into the house with them. If she could somehow free herself, get her hands on that mirror, and step into it, then maybe…!

* * *

Watching the current events unfolding before him in his Eluvian, Uldred smiled to himself, an evil plot forming in his mind. He'd been worried at first, after losing her in the portal. What a stroke of good luck that she had emerged in Ferelden, in The Wonders of Thedas, of all places! And who would have thought that in that little antique shop, mixed among its odds and ends, was another Eluvain that was now on its way to the Circle?

* * *

The templars had stopped at a freehold to rest for the night, blissfully unaware of the evil presence observing them through the gilded framed mirror as they dined around the farmer's table. They decided amongst themselves that each would take a turn guarding the prisoner in the barn tonight. After supper, they bid their kind host and his wife good night. The two elder members of the order settled down in their sleeping bags in the common room. The youngest member of the group, Carastor, known as Caras to his family and friends, would take the first watch.

Caras was a fresh-faced young man who had taken his vows just earlier this year. After being posted at Ferelden's Circle Tower for the past three months, he had been allowed a trip to Denerim to visit his sister and ailing mother. It had just so happened that he'd been assigned to escort this prisoner and the mirror as far as the Circle Tower on his return trip.

His comrades were already snoring by the time Caras was ready to head out the door. His hand was on the doorknob when he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Caras turned and found himself staring at his own reflection in the mirror they had confiscated from The Wonders of Thedas earlier today. He frowned. That cursed mirror from which that witch had appeared…for a split second, he swore he had seen a shadow ripple across its surface.

Caras slowly approached the mirror, with the intent to cover it up with his cloak. He didn't even have time to shout out a warning as a sinister violet glow engulfed him into the darkness.

* * *

A scream woke her up.

Diora stared into the darkness and listened. _'Something's not right…'_

She lifted her head at the sound of footsteps crunching down the path from the farmhouse a few minutes later. She heard a jingle of keys unlocking the padlock and a dull, metallic clang as it hit the hard, dusty ground outside the barn. She furrowed her brows when the barn door creaked open and one of the templars walked in. She recognized him as the one named Caras. His golden hair gleamed in the moonlight.

So did his bloody sword.

"Wh-what are you doing?" she asked him, quickly scooting away from him to the far corner of her cage.

He didn't answer her. Instead, he approached the wagon and unlocked the iron door to her prison. Diora's heart was pounding so hard she thought for sure she would faint. She could hear the blood rushing in her ears and feel her chest rise and drop with each deep, apprehensive breath she took.

_'What the hell is going on here!? Is he letting me go? No—he can't be! This is a joke! It's a sick joke! It has to be!' _she thought to herself. "Hahaha, no thank you! I'd just rather stay here, please," she laughed nervously.

Again, the templar didn't respond. He merely stepped aside and waited for her to come down from the cage. Diora, still unsure about what his intentions were, slowly inched toward the door. She raised her eyes to him, and gulping, quickly dashed out of the wagon for the barn door.

Caras suddenly reached out and pulled her by the hair. He whipped her around and threw her to the ground. Diora squealed out in pain, turning around to gaze into the eyes of her attacker. The look in his eyes sent icy chills up her spine and down her arms to her fingertips. They were pure black and burning with malice. His handsome face contorted into a sinister smile. Her own eyes widened in terror as he lifted up his sword over his head.

"NOOOO!" screamed Diora as he swung the sword down. She instinctively rolled to her side and felt the sword slice through the air and bury itself into the wooden floor inches from her head. Fear and adrenaline pumping though her, she scrambled away from her attacker and ran for the door. She quickly slammed the barn door shut and snapped the padlock in place to buy herself some time. She screamed when her attacker's sword lodged itself into the door, it's tip protruding outside and narrowly missing her left eye.

_'His eyes! It's like he's possessed! The mirror! I need to escape into the mirror!'_ Diora thought, frantically running up the moonlit path on the hill towards the farmhouse. She swung the door open and screamed at the sight before her.

There was blood everywhere.

It was all over the floorboards, and even splattered on the walls and the ceiling. The templar's companions had been slaughtered in their sleep. Stabbed multiple times over and their faces mutilated beyond recognition. The farmer was dead on the kitchen floor, beheaded. Diora could see glints of white protruding from the neck of the headless body. His wife lay beside him a in a pool of blood with a long, gaping wound down her back. An expression of utter horror frozen on her lifeless face.

"OMIGOD! OMIGOD! OMIGOD!" Diora chanted over and over. Tears blurred her vision, and she blinked them away. She brought a trembling hand up to her lips, fighting back the urge to vomit. She swallowed and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and regain her bearings. She scanned the rooms before her for the mirror. She needed to find that mirror!

There is was! In the corner of the dining room, next to her duffle bag! She wept with relief and gingerly made her way around the common room to the dining room. Try as she might, she couldn't avoid stepping on the slick layer of blood which had coated the floorboards. She grabbed her duffle bag and held it to her chest, kneeling before her reflection. "Please, please work! Please take me home!" she prayed fervently, touching the glass. She laughed hysterically when her hand dipped into the mirror, sending ripples across its surface.

A pair of hands grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and tossed her across the room. Caras swung his sword aside and pulled out a dagger as he ominously stalked towards her. Diora got up to her feet and held up her hands. "No…! Please!" she pleaded.

He slashed Diora's right hand across the palm. Diora cried out in pain. She clasped her injured hand to her chest. She could feel the blood pulsating from her wound, a burning red path streaming down her arm and staining the front of her white eyelet lace sundress. She shifted her gaze over to the mirror and made one, final, desperate lunge for it.

"Now, you're mine!" the templar declared triumphantly, catching her by the wrist. He painfully squeezed her wounded hand and lifted her up above the floor.

Diora gasped. _'That voice! It's the same voice I heard this morning!'_

She stared into her killer's beady black eyes and screamed as he plunged the dagger towards her heart.

A golden light engulfed them.

And then…nothing.

* * *

A bright golden light erupted from the Eluvian, its force throwing Uldred across his chamber and knocking him into the wall. He crumpled onto a heap on the stone floor, breathless. "What…?! What was that?!" he asked himself, staring up across the room and into the Eluvian. A scowl broke out on his face and he rose to his feet. "No! I will not lose this time! I will not lose to her!"

Uldred knew now that attempting to possess Caras through the mirror was not enough to accomplish his goal. He would have to travel through the Eluvian and kill the girl himself. It would be easy enough now that the other two templars were dead. He couldn't waste any time. He would not fail!

* * *

Diora moaned. Her head was throbbing. She shook her head and sat up, rubbing her groggy eyes. It seemed as though a fog had clouded her vision. The air was thick and choking. For as far as she could see, there was nothing but a horizon of dusty wasteland and dark clouds overhead. Strange peaks dotted the landscape. The sky was a dull, lifeless greenish-gray color, the likes of which she had never seen before.

"So, you might really be a witch after all," a voice spoke behind her.

Diora's head snapped up. "It's you! Caras!" She gasped as the memories of what had happened flashed in her mind. She looked down at her hands and her chest. The wound was there on her hand, but she strangely didn't feel any pain. The front of her white dress was covered in her own blood, but there was no stab wound on her chest. "Wait! Y-You—you killed them! Everyone! And you—I—you—my hand, me—you were going to stab me in the heart—! Am I dead?!"

Caras smiled sadly at Diora and knelt down to extend her a helping hand.

"NO! Stay away from me, you monster!" Diora screamed, slapping his hand away.

Caras held up his hands and stepped back. "Templars are trained to be especially wary around mages, but don't worry. I promise I won't hurt you."

_'There's no need to worry. I promise, I won't hurt you.'_

Alistair. His face suddenly flashed in Diora's mind and his words echoed in her memories. She remembered how gently his golden-flecked hazel eyes had gazed at her. How she wished now that she had stayed with him, trusted him! Maybe he could've helped her. Up to this point, he'd been the only kind person she'd met in this horrid nightmare universe. Caras's words and sincere expression had suddenly reminded her of him. It threw her off guard.

The magnitude of everything that had happened to her today crashed upon her wave after wave. A mournful wail swelled up from deep within her heart. She covered her face with her hands and buried herself into Caras's armored chest, sobbing uncontrollably. Caras, after a brief moment of utter speechlessness—templars weren't allowed to have physical relationships of any kind with the opposite sex— awkwardly embraced her and stroked her long dark hair.

After she had wept for some time and calmed herself, Caras looked down into her of blue-grey eyes and softly stated, "You're really not some sort of mirror demon, are you. And if you're a witch, I have a feeling you might be a good one, if such a thing can exist."

Diora shook her head sadly. "I'm not a witch! You have to believe me! My name is Diora Clarimonde. I know this is going to sound crazy, but I come from a world where magic doesn't exist. Something pulled me into my mirror at home and brought me here! I don't know why, but I hate it! I miss my mom and dad and my brother Teddy! Something brought me here, and all I want to do is find a way back home!"

Caras studied her earnest face. "So you're not from Ferelden, or Thedas at all, then?"

Diora scrunched up her nose at his question. "I don't even know anything about Ferelden or Thedas!"

Caras chuckled despite himself and their current circumstances. This Diora was unlike any creature he'd ever met, and he thought her rather cute. She reminded him of his younger sister, in a way. "Ferelden is the name of this country, and Thedas is the name of this world."

"Do you know where we are now?" Diora asked him.

"We're lost in what's known as the Fade."

"The Fade? What is that?"

"The Fade is where we go when we dream. It's also the realm of spirits and demons."

"WHAT?! So this is a dream?!"

"Not exactly," replied Caras. "Let me explain. I was about to head out for guard duty when I noticed something strange in the mirror. When I walked over to investigate it, a dark shadow engulfed me and I found myself trapped here. That mirror you emerged from may be some sort of gateway into the Fade."

"So that wasn't you? You're not the one who killed everyone?" Realization dawned in Diora. This Caras had bright green eyes. The Caras in the barn…his eyes had been black. And his voice! "You were possessed! That was someone else in your body! That voice I heard! It was the same voice that I heard this morning when I was pulled into the mirror!"

Caras nodded sadly. "Yes. I think that whatever possessed me may be what summoned you into Thedas. And whatever, whoever it was in my body wanted to kill you. You were its target. I felt its intense hatred for you. Whatever it was, it hungered for you blood. I tried to fight it, but I wasn't strong enough. It trapped me here. I could see everything from that portal as it happened, but nothing I did could stop it, nor could I leave this place through it. Every time I attempted to pass through it, I would return to this very spot."

Diora looked over to where Caras had pointed and realized that they were on the other side of the mirror! Through the doorway of swirling violet haze, she could see into the farmhouse's common room. There they were! Both her and Caras, lying unconscious on the floor!

"I also think," Caras continued, "that the reason why you were summoned here to our world is because you might be a dream walker."

"WHAT?! What do you mean?!" Diora was completely flabbergasted.

"It's something that templars study of in their training. Templars are here to protect civilians against rogue mages we call maleficars and apostates, as well as abominations, mages who become possessed by demons. We also guard the Circle Towers of Magi, where mages live and study. Dream walkers are mages who can enter the Fade at will and shape it. They can also affect the dreams of sleepers. Dream walkers are rare—thought to be extinct in Thedas, as a matter of fact, but I think…you're one of them," Caras concluded.

Diora let the words sink in. "Wait a minute! I just told you! I'm not from Thedas! I come from a world without magic! I'm not a mage!" she argued.

"Normal people can only enter the Fade when they dream. Mages can enter the Fade with the aid of lyrium, a source of magical power, but you entered the Fade at will and without lyrium, even if you didn't know what you were doing," insisted Caras. "I saw it happen from this side of the mirror. Right before whoever controlled my body was about to kill you, you screamed and a golden light burst from your body. You entered the my dream in the Fade and knocked whoever possessed me out of my body."

"But—!" Diora was at a complete loss for words.

"And I think that you might have the power to get us back. You can save us from being trapped here," he continued.

"WHAT?!"

"Please, listen!" Caras pleaded with her. "Remember what I said. Dream walkers can enter, leave, and shape the Fade to their will! I couldn't get through the portal, but _you_ might be able to! I saw how you dipped you hand into the mirror when you were trying to escape!"

Diora gaped at him and considered his words. _'Could Caras be right? Is there really something about me that allows me to travel through the mirror?' _She wrinkled her brow and bit her lips, and then looked over to the portal. _'Can I really get us out of here?' _A new thought flashed in her mind. Diora eyed him cautiously. "Why aren't you scared of me anymore? How do I know you're just not trying to trick me or use me? Have you forgotten how I appeared in your world through a mirror and might be a demon after all?"

Caras laughed. "Well...I can't say I completely understand everything that's happened, but I've always believed that if you believe the best in people, they will return your trust and believe in you. If I was on my guard, then you would be on your guard, too, and I don't want that. Besides, if you really were some demon, you would've been able to defend yourself properly back there."

"That's true," she agreed. She was surprised at how Caras's own feeling mirrored her own. Even back home, when she had first started tutoring Kristi, Farah, and Lucy, she'd been terrified and intimidated by how strong, beautiful, and popular they had been. And yet, when she had opened up to them, they had opened up to her in return and she was able to help them succeed. How she missed them! She woul dtry anything to get back! Diora adopted a more serious, albeit pleading, tone. " I want to you promise to me that you'll release me and help me find a way home if I can get us back."

In a rather gallant move straight out of the movies, Caras knelt down on one knee and bowed low before her. He clasped her injured right hand in his and laid a gentle kiss on it, ignoring the blood. "You have my word. I, Carastor Farnel, Knight of the Templar Order of Ferelden, hereby swear in the name of the Prophetess Andraste, beloved by The Maker, to defend and aid the Lady Diora Clarimonde in her quest to find a way back to her world."

Tears welled up in Diora's eyes, and a smile—her first smile since arriving in Ferelden—slowly shone across her face.

* * *

She first became aware of the searing sensation in her hand that when she stirred into consciousness. It was followed by the dull throbbing ache on the side of her head where her skull had not-so-gently cracked against the floor when she collapsed. The strap to her duffle bag was still wrapped around her shoulders and threatened to cut off her breathing supply if she stayed any longer in her position. Diora slowly sat up and blinked her eyes. They were back! She had done it! She had actually brought them back!

"Lady Diora, you did it! You brought us back!" exclaimed Caras. He felt his face with his hands and ran them through his hair. His initial look of joy turned into sorrow when he glanced over at his friends.

"It wasn't you. It wasn't your fault," Diora tried to console him.

"I know. I just wish that I had been stronger, or could have come back myself to save them..and-and prevent—!" Caras broke down and started to weep silently.

Not knowing what else she could do, Diora scooted over next to him and wrapped her arms around him. "Go ahead and cry. I know what it feels like to lose your family and friends. Cry as much as need to."

She closed her eyes and held him for some time. She had felt nothing but helplessness since she'd arrived here, and comforting Caras gave her sense of worth that she couldn't quite explain. She was surprised when Caras suddenly tensed up. He pulled away from her and placed an object in her hand.

"Caras…?"

"Lady Diora, I'm sorry I won't be able to honor my promise to see you home safely," he whispered gently into her ear.

"What...?!" Diora gasped. She looked up and saw what Caras had seen in the mirror's reflection behind her.

A man stood there in the doorway observing them. An older man of middle stature dressed in a thick red robe. His head had been shaven bald, and he had thick dark brows. His beady black eyes gleamed coldly at her, as though in hunger.

"I know him from the Circle Tower. His name is Uldred. He's the one who summoned you here," Caras continued in hushed tones as the man approached them with outstretched arms. Caras placed his hands on her shoulders.

It slowly dawned on Diora what Caras meant to do. "No! Caras, please—!"

"Don't worry, I won't let him hurt you!" In one sweeping movement, Caras used all his strength to forcefully thrust her and her duffle bag backwards into the mirror. "Good bye, Lady Diora!"

"NO!" roared Uldred as Diora disappeared in a shower of golden light.

In the growing swirl of darkness, Diora watched in horror from the other side. She reached with an outstretched hand towards the portal to no avail. Caras didn't even have time to reach for his sword or dagger. Uldred gripped Caras in a crushing hold and lifted him high up into the air. A spray of blood, Caras's blood, misted over her into the mirror. It was followed by the sound of shattering glass. The roaring blackness enveloped her. And then all she could hear was the piercing sound of her own terrified screams.

**End of Chapter Three**

* * *

Our heroine reunites with Alistair in the next chapter!

Please read, review and be kind.


	4. Chapter 4: A Reunion

Thanks to everyone for dropping in or for staying with me this far, and for the reviews and the follows. :)

* * *

**Lost In Thedas**

**Chapter Four: A Reunion**

Time and space had no meaning. Diora was wrapped in a deep sea of black and loneliness. She didn't know how long she had wandered in it, nor did she care. She floated freely in it, the gentle waves cradling and rocking her in whatever direction they pleased. What shores would she land upon when they were done with her?

The last moments of Caras's life played in her mind over and over again. Uldred had lifted Caras high into the air and cast a death curse, crushing the life out of him. As Caras fell back to the ground, drawing his final breath, he had turned his blood-streaked face back to gaze in the mirror. And he had smiled back at her…! Even as the life was quickly fleeing his brilliant green eyes, he had smiled, as though to give her hope.

"Caras…! I'm so sorry…!" Diora stifled a sob and a sharp ache constricted her chest. His smile was the last thing she had seen through the mirror before its glass shattered. She knew it was Caras who had intentionally broken the mirror as he fell, dying from Uldred's spell. He had sacrificed his life for her. His final act had been to ensure that Uldred could not follow her into the mirror.

Diora curled up into a ball, hugging herself tightly. "I'm so cold…!" she whispered to herself. "Mom…Dad…Teddy! Will I ever make it back home to you…?!"

As though to answer her question, a soft light flickered in the darkness. A gentle heat pulsated from her injured hand. Diora held out her right hand and looked down. In its emanating golden glow, Diora studied Caras's parting gift. It was a small circular pendant on a delicate silver chain. The smooth, domed surface was covered with her blood, and she used a bloody finger to wipe it clean. The jewel was unlike one she had ever seen before. It felt like glass, but its color was a beautiful spiral cloud of blues, green, and dots of gold. It looked like a blue opal, almost, but also reminded her of the pictures of galaxies from the Hubble Space Telescope that she had studied in astronomy class.

She flipped it over to study the polished silver backing, and found herself staring at her own reflection. It burned soft and bright, dancing in the flickering glow of the pendant. The light seemed to awaken something within Diora. Like a flame rising high, it broke through the shadows and the dark, encircling her in its warmth. She closed her eyes and let it sweep her away.

* * *

The deep golden rays of the morning sun roused Diora from slumber. She was aware of the smell of moist dirt and the rustling foliage beneath her. Something heavy was crushing her chest. She slowly blinked opened her eyes. It was her duffle bag. Rolling it off her, she moaned, sat up, and studied her surroundings.

Underneath the twisted branches of the ancient forest, the morning sky was painted a warm glow of orange and pink. In the distance, a golden morning star sparkled brightly against the rising sun. Wood sorrel and leafy ferns flecked the blanket of grassy wetland. She absent mindedly rubbed the bed of green moss upon which her head had been resting. She saw a trail of rising smoke, perhaps from a dwelling, not too far away and rose to her feet. She grabbed her duffle bag with her good hand and strapped it across her shoulders.

"I'm definitely not home… Where am I? Could I be back in my own time?" she asked herself, walking in the direction of the smoke. Surely, she must be home and probably just landed in the woods by the lake somewhere!

Her hand was still clasping the pendant, and she strung it around her neck. She winced when she flexed her injured hand and stopped walking to look down at the angry gash across her palm. Blood started oozing out of her wound, and she bit back a mixed cry of pain and helplessness. Yes, it hurt, but even worse in her mind, it was so ugly! It would leave a nasty scar for sure, if she didn't die from infection. She didn't even know if it required stitches—it certainly looked like it would. And where, or how, was she even going to treat it? Did she have anything in her pack…?

A foul, putrid scent permeated the air. Diora grimaced and chocked back the urge to vomit. The sounds of snapping branches and crunching leaves, accompanied by a series of deep guttural gurgling sounds behind her alerted her that she was not alone. Goose bumps prickled up on her bare arms.

She gulped and suspiciously turned around.

It was hideous. It stood there behind her. A man, and yet not a man. No! A monster straight out of those gory horror movies that she couldn't stand to watch! The raw, pink, flesh on its face—no, its entire body, from what she could see underneath its leather armor—was scarred and melted, as though it had bathed in a vat of burning acid and survived. A pair of dull, bloodshot eyes targeted her. It grinned with an unnaturally wide, serrated mouth, revealing two rows of rotting, pointy teeth, and pulled out a sword.

If evil had a face, then Diora was staring at it.

* * *

A piercing scream snapped Alistair out of his dazed stupor.

Alistair's ears perked up, not completely sure what they'd heard just now. He'd been sitting outside Flemeth's hut, silently mourning the terrible turn of events at Ostagar that had occurred just a few days earlier. Everyone…Duncan, the Grey Wardens, even his half-brother Cailan…dead! The monumental loss and the realization that he was one of two Grey Wardens left in all of Ferelden to deal with the looming Blight terrified him. And thank the Maker that Aedan had survived and was recovering! But then what? What in the Maker's name were they going to do?! How would he and Aedan be able to defend Ferelden against the Blight by themselves?

Skylos, Aedan's Mabari hound, sniffed the air and started snarling.

Another scream. It sounded closer this time.

Alistair jumped into action. He pulled out his sword, grabbed his shield, and started running.

* * *

'_OMIGOD, I'M NOT HOME! I'M IN HELL!'_

Diora could not count agility or speed as her talents—she'd never been as good as Kristi in gym class, having been more academic—but there was something to be said about the adrenaline that was now pumping through her as she ran for her life. The monster continued chasing her through the forest, swinging and hacking at her with its sword. Diora could hear the metallic singing of the sword as it cut through the air behind her. She ran blindly through the wet forest, leafy ferns mercilessly slapping her face and thorny shrubs tearing at her dress and scratching her unprotected legs and arms. She jumped over muddy puddles and ducked under low-lying branches, her assailant close behind her. She could feel his hot, fetid breath on her tails. Her lungs were burning and heart was racing at a thousand beats per second. She didn't think she could last any longer!

A broken branch caught her duffle bag. The sudden snapback and Diora's forward momentum sent her crashing and rolling into the forest ground. She heard her attacker's footsteps and looked up to see he'd slowed to a stop. She scrambled around for something, anything, to help her defend herself.

_'No! I can't die! Not like this! Not here!'_ she thought, snatching up the thick branch that had been her downfall. Gasping, sweat beading down her face, she jumped up and held it out in front of her. "Don't come any closer!" she shouted, waving it at the monstrous humanoid before her.

It narrowed its eyes at her. A high burble escaped from its lips before it lunged at her.

Whatever semblance of momentary nerve Diora had fled. She closed her eyes, screamed, and awaited her sure death.

A sure death that didn't come.

In the midst of her scream, Diora simultaneously heard the crackling of fireworks, a dog's snarling bark, and the clashing sound of metal ringing against metal…

* * *

Morrigan had decided that she'd seen enough of this girl running and screaming through the swamp. She'd been in animal form as a little blackbird and was curious enough when the girl had appeared in the forest in a golden shower of light that morning, but had quickly judged the strange creature to be of low merit. Aside for the pretty pendant that hung around her neck, of course. Morrigan was about to enjoy watch the strange weakling's untimely end when she had shown surprising courage and started defending herself with a stick.

_'Hmm…she DID appear out of nowhere, after all…What strange power might that be?'_ In a split-second decision, which Morrigan hoped she would not later regret, she transformed back into her human form and called forth a spell of lightning to debilitate the darkspawn hurlock who'd been chasing after the strange girl.

Just as Morrigan cast her lightning spell, Skylos and Alistair burst through the brushes. Morrigan's spell bought Alistair enough time to jump in between the hurlock and its victim and block blow of the sword. He then took the dark creature down with a timely and highly effective shield bash. Skylos sprang up into the air and charged at the hurlock. Two hundred pounds of muscle viciously overwhelmed and shred at its enemy before Alistair ruthlessly plunged his sword into the darkspawn creature's heart.

_'What—the—hell—just—happened…?!'_ Diora stood awestruck at the scene before her. She gaped at her rescuers.

There was a beautiful woman raven-haired woman standing on a branch up on a tree. She had appeared out of nowhere and summoned lightning with her hands…! The black leather strips stitched to the hem of her black skirt swayed in the gentle wind. She wore a dark maroon hood over her head, but Diora could see a pair of unnaturally bright yellow eyes studying her. "Well, well…What have we here?" asked the dark-haired sorceress.

The huge dog, akin to a muscular bull-mastiff, one of the likes she'd never seen before. At the moment, it's entire body was splashed with a tarlike substance, the monstrous humanoid's blood. It gave the dog a fearsome and savage appearance. But it had intelligent eyes which were intently studying her. Diora could tell that underneath the blood, it really was a beautiful beast with short glossy white coat.

And…! The last member of the group. He was wiping the creature's vile black blood from his sword before sheathing it. A shield emblazoned with a blue and white griffon... Short, dark, honey-colored hair... Recognition slowly flickered in those golden-flecked brown eyes as stared up back at her.

Diora's knees buckled beneath her. She dare not, dare not believe it…!

"It's you…!" whispered Alistair. He ran over to her, catching her before she collapsed. He gently lowered her to the ground and stared into those blue-grey eyes that had haunted his dreams for the past month. What was she doing here, being chased by darkspawn?! How did she get here?! And she was injured, covered in blood!

He couldn't believe it! The girl from the marketplace! He had searched for her for hours after she'd run away from him. Then he'd heard that a strange girl matching her description had magically emerged from a mirror in The Wonders of Thedas, and that the templars had captured her. He'd been so distraught and preoccupied with her that even Duncan had reprimanded him, telling him that a Grey Warden's duties took precedent over personal matters. Even now, something about her tugged at his heart…!

But she was here, now. Not some conjured up dream, but quite real and in his arms. And she was calling him by name. Maker, she remembered him!

Diora's lips trembled as she looked up at Alistair. Tears welled up in her eyes. Try as she might, she couldn't help the floodgates of emotions surging up within her. "Alistair! I was scared! I was so scared!" she sobbed into his armor. In the midst of the joy, relief, and fatigue, her whole body started feeling numb. A strange buzzing filled her ears. Her head suddenly felt very dizzy and heavy.

She'd fainted.

"Hey! Are you okay?!" Alistair gently shook her, to no avail. He then scooped her into his arms, taking extra care not to bang her into his armor. How frail her body felt in his! He walked over and picked up her pack before making his way back to Flemeth's hut, Skylos trailing him.

"Hmm…how very disappointing after all," remarked Morrigan in a velvety sing-song voice. She observed Alistair's retreating back through narrowed eyes. "Although…I wonder what Mother's reaction will be…?"

* * *

_Diora's eyes fluttered open. Her head felt heavy and her throat was dry. She was lying on a bed—NO—her bed and staring up at the ceiling of her bedroom._

_"Diora, are you all right, dear?" a concerned voice gently asked her._

_"Mom…?" Diora's heart skipped a beat. Joy swelled within. "Mom, is that really you? Wh-What happened?"_

_"Oh, honey, you were packing up for the trip to the lake when you suddenly collapsed. I was so worried! Your friends are downstairs…"_

_"Oh, Mom!" cried Diora. She felt her mom's cool hands softly pull a tendril of hair from her forehead. "I-I-must have been dreaming! It was a terrible dream! And a sad one, too…! I dreamt I would never see you again!"_

_Mom laughed and pulled Diora into a warm embrace. "Oh, Diora! I will always be right here with you, my darling girl."_

_Diora wrapped her arms around her Mother's neck. She hadn't held her Mom like this since she was a child. "Oh, Mom, I'm so happy…!"_

* * *

Alistair knelt by the cot in Flemeth's hut, quietly studying her while she slept. She was in fact _quite_ pleasing, with her dark lustrous hair and creamy complexion. Her wide, doe-eyed appearance and generous lips lent her beauty a gentle air of exquisite innocence, unlike Morrigan, whose upturned nose, calculating golden eyes and exotic dark features were as sharp as her tongue and cold as marble. She stirred restlessly. A troubled sigh parted from her dusky lips and her brows furrowed. He leaned over her and tenderly smoothed the lines away from her forehead with an ungloved hand. Her milky skin felt like silk beneath his rough, callused hands, and he traced the shape of her delicately arched brow his thumb.

Diora's eyes fluttered open. For a brief passing moment, she had forgotten where she was and everything that had happened. Her sleepy mind slowly focused on her surroundings. The sounds of crackling firewood. The meaty smell of a bubbling stew. She was lying on a lumpy and rather prickly straw mattress, completely naked underneath a roughly hewn coverlet.

AND THERE WAS ALISTAIR LEANING OVER HER, HIS FACE MERE INCHES FROM HERS.

Instinct—and flailing limbs—kicked in. Diora let out a shrill scream.

"NO! It's not what you think!" Alistair hadn't expected that such a tiny being could have a war cry powerful enough to burst his eardrums. Stars blinded his vision and blood gushed from his nose when her elbow solidly connected with his face. He fell back and cupped his face, trying to take the edge off the searing pain. Blinking back aching tears, Alistair instantly and mentally recanted any previous thoughts he'd had of her "gentle air." He shook his head and few times and wiped the blood from his face with his palm. "Ugh…! Maker's breath! You…are…quite violent!" he groaned, bracing against the cot and started rising up.

He unintentionally pulled down at the blanket. Diora glared at him and tugged the blanket closer around herself. "No! I'm naked under this sheet!"

"Now, now. Is that any way to act after we rescued you and healed your wounds? Though I would say the lechering fool Alistair probably deserved what he got," a haughty voice called out from the doorway.

This was followed by a pleasant chuckle and another voice, this one more teasing. "So this is why Alistair was so keen for me to get out of bed this morning, after my wounds have just barely started healing, too."

"Hey! I didn't —" Alistair started to object, his hazel brown eyes furiously glaring at the newcomers.

Diora looked up at the two who had just entered the hut. There was that mysterious dark haired woman with unnaturally yellow eyes and deep violet lips, who had previously blasted lightning from her hand. Her fine features were wrinkled in distaste. Accompanying her was a young man with laughing bright blue sapphire eyes and ridiculously long (waist-long, actually) platinum blond hair, parted down the middle of his widow's peak. He had a long, lean build. His handsome face, like his body, was long and lean, but chiseled. He had high cheekbones and generous lips.

Morrigan and Aedan had stepped into the hut just in time to see Alistair rolling on the floor with a bloody nose. Morrigan hated to admit it; she _was_ mildly amused to see the Grey Warden brought down by such a meek, wide-eyed thing. _'Although he did sob like a baby for the last seven days,'_ she thought in disdain, refusing to give this strange girl _too_ much credit. She turned a critical gaze to their guest. "So, Alistair's little princess has awaken. 'Twas quite sickening, how he refused to leave your bedside. Do you have a name, girl?"

Diora didn't answer. At that moment, she was lost in thought, remembering the dream she'd just awaken from. How real it had been, the sound of her mom's voice and the warmth of her embrace! How Diora wished she could be safe at home instead of here with these strangers.

Home.

The word struck a chord inside her. This world was her reality now. This place where people yielded magic and decaying humanoids with serrated mouths chased you through the woods. Despite Caras's sacrifice, she was still lost in an alternate universe, alone and separated from everything and everyone she knew and loved. A flood of homesickness surged up within her. She squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face into the blanket.

"Nice job, Morrigan," scowled Alistair as Diora started silently sobbing into the blanket.

"Well, waking up to your repulsive face didn't do her any good, either!" Morrigan retorted.

"That's enough, you two. Can't you see she's in shock?" Aedan held up a hand to silence them both. He walked over to the cot and, much to Alistair's mortification and Morrigan's chagrin, sat down next to Diora. "I'm sure being chased through the swamps by darkspawn and then waking up in a strange place isn't helping her," he told them.

"I really thought I was back home. Oh, Mom! It was just a dream after all!" cried Diora, rocking back and forth, trying to comfort herself.

"There, there, milady, it's all right. What's the matter? You can tell us," he comforted her. He smiled warmly and continued, "You don't have to be worry. You are safe here. My name is Aedan Cousland. What's your name?"

Diora thought for sure that if she gazed into Aedan's deep blue eyes, she could literally lose herself in them before long. They really were mesmerizing! "Aedan...? My name is Diora...Diora Clarimonde."

"Diora. It has a pleasant ring to it. Well, now, Lady Diora,_ w_hile I'm here, no harm will come to you. It's my duty as a Grey Warden—no, _as a man_—to ensure that you are safe," Aedan told her in his most gallant tone of voice.

_'Ugh! How can he spout all that with a straight face?'_ Morrigan asked herself, resisting the urge to smack the girl from her dreamlike state and back to reality.

Alistair glared irately at the pair on the bed and clenched his fists. He couldn't help feeling a mixed spasm of jealousy and awe at how Aedan Cousland was handling this situation. _'He certainly has a knack for talking to the ladies,'_ Alistair observed. He hated to admit it, but he was mentally taking down notes.

Aedan gestured over to Morrigan, "This woman here is Morrigan. And I believe you might already know my companion and fellow Grey Warden Alistair. He rescued you from a darkspawn attack this morning and brought you here. You were injured and covered in blood."

Diora glanced up at Alistair. He'd saved her twice, now. Even though it had been terrible to see him drive his sword through what Aedan had referred to as a 'darkspawn,' he'd had a fierce style and a determination in his face that had set her heart racing. He'd been so...so brave and courageous! She felt the heat rising to her cheeks when she thought of him. "That's right... Alistair! You saved me from that thing, that creature...! Thank you..."

"At your service, Lady Diora," Alistair smiled kindly in reply. This was followed by an "Ouch!" and he brought his hand up to his face to soothe his bruised nose.

"Um...just Diora will do." Diora shifted uncomfortably. Somewhat embarrassed (especially when she remembered that SHE was the cause of his bloody nose) and suddenly very shy at all the attention she was receiving, she looked down and saw a jagged, puckered pink line across her palm. A dull ache still resonated there, but the flesh had somehow knit itself back together! Surprised, and somewhat puzzled, she pulled back the blanket and looked down at her body. All her scratches and bruises were gone! "

"Ahh, yes." Morrigan read her mind and explained, "When we brought you here, Mother and I undressed you, and Mother healed your wounds with her magic. Not that you'd been seriously injured, of course."

"Healing...magic?" Diora asked curiously, not sure if she heard correctly. But then again, how else could her injury have healed up so quickly? "I suppose I should thank you as well...and your mother."

"Yes, indeed you should," nodded Morrigan. "She'll be pleased to hear you are awake. She is quite curious about the girl who appeared out of a mirror, if Alistair's tall tales are to be believed."

**End of Chapter Four**

* * *

In the next chapter: Diora meets Flemeth, who tells her how she can go back home...!


	5. Chapter 5: A Quest is Given

Thanks to everyone for dropping in or for staying with me this far, and for the reviews and the follows, and the favs. I really appreciate it! =D

Can't believe I've actually made it this far, but at the same time, I can't believe I've only just made it this far. Hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

As always, please read, review, and be kind! =) I appreciate any feedback on the story. It encourages me to improve and keep writing!

Xoxo, Ella

* * *

**Lost in Thedas**

**Chapter Five: A Quest Is Given**

"And then Caras pushed me into the mirror. He broke the mirror after pushing me so that Uldred couldn't follow me in. The last thing I saw before the mirror's glass shattered was Uldred killing Caras. I don't even know how long I was lost in the mirror before I ended here in the Wilds. The pendant Caras gave me started glowing in the darkness. The back of the pendant is a mirror, and when I looked at my reflection, I think that it brought me here," Diora finished telling them her story. She pulled out the pendant and gently ran her thumb across the surface of mirror on its back before wrapping the silver chain around her neck.

"So, that's what happened to you after I lost you in the marketplace. I wished I'd never let you go that time," Alistair said somberly. He yearned to reach for her hand and comfort her, but refrained from doing so. Since he'd first locked eyes with her in the markeplace, he'd wanted to protect her. He couldn't explain it. Even before knowing her name or hearing her story, he always felt that there was something different about Diora that drew him to her, something that set her apart from any other woman he'd ever met. But he never imagined that she came from a different world altogether. Even more incredible, by her accounts, she was a dreamwalker! For someone from a world without magic and claimed she was not a mage, she certainly -albeit unknowingly- yielded an exceedingly powerful magical talent that was all but extinct in Thedas!

"But what Alistair said is true, then? By Andraste's flaming sword, you really came to our world through a mirror?!" Aedan asked Diora, who silently nodded. What an amazing story it was that she had just told them! He couldn't believe that this girl, who knew nothing of the world she'd landed in, had even made it this far and survived. When Alistair had first brought an unconscious Diora into Flemeth's hut this morning, Aedan had thought her to be like a lost little lamb, an innocent, meek and mild. While she was telling them her story, Aedan, without even realizing it, had begun seeing her in a new light. There was something profoundly beautiful about her wide blue-grey eyes. They had so clearly and genuinely reflected every emotion she'd felt: fear...anguish...and even courage in the face of despair.

Flemeth, who'd silently been listening to Diora's story, narrowed her eyes at the girl. "Curious…very curious, indeed. A girl from another world with the power to travel through mirrors and walk in the dreams of others. A mage himself cannot with his free will enter the Fade. He can do so when he is dreaming, but when he is awake, he must do so with the aid of lyrium…The bygone elves of Arlathan were said to be talented dreamers, and there are stories of the ancient Tevinter magisters who killed their rivals by haunting them in their dreams... " she mused aloud.

Diora couldn't help herself. She blinked her eyes and raised her brows. "ELVES?" she asked incredulously, her eyes wide as saucers. "You meant elves-like little humans with pointy ears? They actually exist here?"

"Why do you ask? Do they not exist in your world, too?" Morrigan, feigning innocence in her tone of voice, questioned Diora. Up to this point, she thought that this Diora was a less-than-extraordinary, clueless, and overly emotional girl who _might_ have a bit of old magic flowing through her veins. Though Morrigan _was_ intrigued by the magic bit and this other world that Diora came from, she was less than impressed with the girl. Despite being from a world across time and space, this Diora was still so_...common. 'And yet this girl just shows up and everyone loves her!'_ she finished the thought irately.

Diora shook her head. "Um...no-that is, they exist only in stories..."

"Oh! Well, then, let me be the first to warn you about the dwarves and werewolves, too. You've already met your first darkspawn this morning," Morrigan added gleefully, her deep violet lips curling into a taunting smile. She enjoyed the distress her vexations seemed to be giving Diora. She ignored the glare from Alistair and the pained expression on Aedan's face.

"Now, now, Morrigan! Do not be rude, girl! This is our guest!" Flemeth reprimanded her daughter.

Her hand reached out for the pendant hanging from Diora's neck. The old woman stroked the pendant back and forth in between her thumb and forefinger, feeling the warm pulsations emanating from the tiny mirror there and the fiery blue stone. Diora cringed when Flemeth touched the pendant. Those aging hands were so gnarled and unsightly. There was something so unsettling about the longing look in Flemeth's yellow eyes, those same eyes that Morrigan had. What Diora sensed wasn't completely evil, but it was dark and foreboding, like a presence lurking just beyond the shadows. At that very instant, Diora truly believed that this Flemeth, with her grim face, hollowed cheeks, and matting grey hair, was the manifestation of a witch in the fairytales she'd read as a child. The only thing missing was a wart at the end of her nose.

Flemeth's thinning lips twisted into an amused smile, sensing Diora's uneasiness. She released the necklace, "You are certainly no elf, girl, but that there is a mysterious magical power in your blood. This pendant by itself is just that. And then, not even knowing your own power, you turned the mirror on the back on this pendant into a doorway with your blood. I can only suspect this Uldred summoned you here to sacrifice you in order to use your blood cast some dark curse. What the curse may be, I cannot tell you."

Alistair clenched his fists and took a protective step towards Diora. "Absolutely not! To sacrifice Diora in some kind of blood magic ritual…it's sickening!"

"Will Uldred be able to follow Diora through the pendant?" Aedan asked prudently. He, too, was just as incensed as Alistair, but he'd always had a quick tactical mind and an ability to allow reason not to be clouded by his emotions.

Diora, who had not even considered that possibility, gasped sharply. To her immense relief, Flemeth shook her head and replied, "No. For Uldred to do that, he would need a mirror that is quite powerful. This pendant does not hold enough power to be able to perform such a magical act."

"This Uldred must be a powerful mage, if he was able to spirit you away into Thedas," Morrigan observed. "'Tis a shame the mirror was broken. Such a magical relic—"

Alistair, having had enough of Morrigan's callousness, interrupted her musings. "Really, Morrigan? That's all you can say to Diora right now? She's just told us that she's lost everyone important to her, and that Caras sacrificed himself to save her. Have you never lost someone important to you?"

Not to be put down, Morrigan slid him a sideways look. "I see that being reunited with your little princess has been good for you after all, seeing as you have finally decided to join us again after these past few days. Did falling on your blade in grief seem like too much trouble?"

"Oh, I get it. This is the part where we're shocked to discover how you've never had a real friend your entire life," he retorted.

"Stop it, you two," said Aedan. He shot a concerned glance at Diora, who was nervously looking down at her feet and fidgeting with her hands. "Diora, when you were telling us you story, I realized that I knew this Uldred of whom you speak. I met him at Ostagar before the battle a week and a half ago. Do you realize you've lost in the mirror for that long?"

Alistair scratched his head and sheepishly added, "Actually, Diora…I met you at the marketplace in Denerim six weeks ago."

Diora's head snapped up. "WHAT?! It's been that long?! But—HOW? And how will I ever get back home? Will I ever see home again?"

Alistair and Aedan looked on, each unsure of how to answer her question. She's been through so much! She'd experience the loss of her family and Caras, and from the sounds of it, she was far from home with no certain way of getting back. The sorrow, homesickness, and despair that she felt so closely mirrored each of his own feelings. Alistair couldn't help thinking about Duncan and his Grey Warden brethren who'd been lost at Ostagar. For Aedan, the scars of Arl Howe's attack on Highever and the deaths of his parents, Oriana, Oren, and possibly even Fergus now, were still fresh on his heart.

"Hmph! Why, you already have the answer to your own question!"

"Huh?! What do you mean by that?" Diora blinked at the old woman's skeletal face.

"Bah! You said so yourself. While Caras was attacking you, you sought refuge in the mirror. It appears that these mirrors are also magical gateways with the powers that surpass even time and space. The mirror is your way back home," the old crone answered.

Diora shook her head. "No, it's not! I tried that, and it brought me here instead!"

Flemeth narrowed her eyes at Diora and continued, "Think, girl. It took more just a mirror to bring you to Thedas, girl. This Uldred also used a powerful spell along with a mirror in order to spirit you through space and time into our world."

"So what you're saying, Mother, is that we need a mirror as well as a powerful mage to conjure up a spell in order to send Diora back home," Morrigan concluded.

"Not just any mirror," Flemeth objected. "It must be the mirror from which Diora was called into our world. Seeing as the mirror from The Wonders of Thedas has been shattered, the only other mirror is that which is currently in the possession of this mage Uldred."

"It's just a guess, but I hardly suspect that Uldred would just willingly agree to send Diora back home, even if we were able to get the mirror from him," said Alistair.

"No, not Uldred," said Aedan, shaking his head. He turned his sapphire eyes to Flemeth and pointed his finger at her, realization dawning in his head, "But you...you can send Diora home if we can get the mirror from Uldred… If you really are _the_ Flemeth of the legends, the Witch of the Wilds, then you must be old and powerful enough to do so."

Flemeth returned his gaze. Aedan's cunning impressed her, as did his ability to remain unwavering beneath her penetrating stare. Such a strong young man would have thrilled her senses when she was young and beautiful. "Must I? Age and power are relative, depends on who is asking. Compared to you, yes. On both counts."

Diora shook her head at Aedan's suggestion. "No, we can't risk it! Uldred wants to kill me! He killed Caras! Oh, Caras! His-his face and his d-d-death haunt me! I'll never forget him or what he did for me!" Diora's voice broke down and she bit back a sob.

Flemeth's voice adopted a stony and sinister tone. "I am sorry for your Caras, but your grief must come later. In the dark shadows before you take vengeance, as my mother always used to say. Duty must come first. If you seek to go home, your duty is to find Uldred and the mirror."

"But can you really send me home?" Diora asked hopefully.

"Well, don't expect me to do everything!" answered Flemeth with mock exasperation. "But, yes, if you can retrieve the mirror, I will be able to find a way to send you back home."

Diora couldn't believe her ears! She had a way home! Hope and happiness surged in her heart. But before those feelings could overwhelm her, Flemeth added, "There is another condition that must be met before I can send you back, however. In addition to possessing the mirror, the stars must be in accord before you can go home."

"The stars, Mother?" Morrigan questioned Flemeth, interest piqued. "What do the stars have to do with anything?"

"The morning she appeared in Thedas, the Golden Star in the eastern morning sky was perfectly aligned with the Red Eye of the Dragon constellation. Diora can only be sent home at such a time when this occurrence in the heavens repeats itself. This Golden Star is also known by a high name, which, curiously enough, is _Diorenum_, meaning 'the golden gift.'"

_"The inevitable time is soon to come, be it for good or evil. Your spirit dances under the moon of uncertainty as your star shines ever more into the dominion of the Red Dragon. Your reflection is cast in the mirror of illusion, darkness, and blood…"_

It was as though time had stopped at the sound of a heartbeat. The fortune teller's words rushed into Diora's mind, echoing over and over and over. _'I finally understand what she meant…! I really finally understand!'_

"So is it mere coincidence that you are here after it was foretold to you by a seer in your own world? You, a girl who is named after our Golden Star? Or does fate have a greater destiny for you…?" Flemeth asked Diora.

Diora looked up at Flemeth and answered, "Magic doesn't exist in my world, and yet I now find myself in this world where it does exist. If you'd ask me back in my own world if I could travel through a mirror to get here, I would have laughed at you... But here I am after being pulled into a mirror. I…I'm not sure what to believe anymore."

To the group's surprise, Flemeth threw her head back and started laughing. "A statement that possesses more wisdom than it implies. The Golden Star aligns with the Red Eye of the Dragon every six months. This means that you have little less than five months to complete your quest, unless you prefer to extend your stay in Thedas until the following year."

"But I doubt it's as easy as that," said Diora.

"And when is it ever easy, girl from the mirror?" Flemeth asked her. "There is more to you than it seems. I believe you will find out more about yourself and why you were summoned to Thedas on your journey here. I will be curious to know what you have discovered when you return to me with the mirror."

Diora nervously looked up at Flemeth under furrowed brows. She couldn't help feeling that the witch had her own agenda. But then again, she needed this woman's help to get back home. She couldn't quite trust Flemeth, but what other choice did she have? A feeling of uneasiness gripping her heart.

"Don't worry, Diora. Whatever it takes, we'll help you find a way home," Alistair, sensing Diora's falling spirits, reassured her. He quickly turned over to Aedan and asked, "Right?"

Aedan nodded in agreement. "It's the right thing to do."

Flemeth studied the two Grey Wardens and the girl standing in between them. A sly smile touched the corners of her thinning lips. Yes, she could already foresee the brewing rivalry between the two Grey Wardens for the attentions of the girl from the mirror. Of course, it couldn't be helped. This Diora was a sweet, albeit naïve, girl, whose plight would pull at the strings of anyone with a heart, especially those of two honorable Grey Wardens. _'Well, she won't be naïve for long in this world, or she won't make it home at all,'_ thought Flemeth, her mind now dwelling on the Blight. Having learned of this girl's strange power, her demise was something that Flemeth couldn't risk.

And these two Grey Wardens had their own obligations as well. Although they had already spoken this morning while Diora was still asleep, Flemeth needed to remind them of that and ensure that they, too, understood their duty. "So, it is settled," she told them. "It has always been the duty of the Grey Wardens to unite the country against the Blight. Diora will travel with you on your journey to unite the country, and you two must protect her and help her obtain that which she needs to find her way back home. And who knows, Diora's own powers, should they manifest themselves, may even be useful."

* * *

And that was how Diora found herself on an epic quest to find a way back home. She was beginning to feel like she was trapped in one of her brother Teddy's video games. She'd been reluctant and terrified, of course, after finding out that she'd landed in Ferelden during a period of war and civil strife. Like her, Alistair and Aedan, too, had a quest of their own to complete. With treaties to gain the help of mages,_ elves(!)_, and _dwarves(!)_-_yes, she still couldn't believe that they existed here_- Alistair and Aedan had to unite the kingdom to fight against the Blight, an impending invasion of demonic forces led by an Archdemon, a god-like being hosted in the body of an ancient dragon. The demonic creatures were known as Darkspawn.

She would soon learn that Alistair and Aedan were the last two remaining Grey Wardens, a legendary order of skilled warriors, in all of Ferelden. One of the king's generals had betrayed them and fled the field with his army during the middle of a battle against the darkspawn. Their entire Grey Warden order and the king's army had been slaughtered at the devastating defeat of Ostagar. Duncan, the commander of the Grey Wardens and Alistair's mentor, had perished with them. The ruler of Ferelden, King Cailan, too, had died in that battle. Alistair and Aedan themselves should be dead, too, were it not for Flemeth, _who had transformed into a giant bird(!)_ and saved them.

Later that afternoon, as they were preparing to set off on their journey, Alistair tried his best to put Diora at ease when she asked him about the possibility of running into Darkspawn. She wasn't looking forward to another encounter with one anytime soon. "Don't worry. All Grey Wardens can sense the Darkspawn. Whatever their cunning, they won't take us by surprise. Until we can send you back home, I'll protect you. I promise," he answered her.

She didn't know why, but she believed in him. Diora thanked him wordlessly with a slow, timid smile. Their gazes locked. Alistair felt his heart skip a beat and his cheeks flush. It was the first time he'd seen her smile. He wasn't expecting it, and it took him by pleasant surprise. And did he detect a hint of appreciation in her wide eyes? They had appeared so genuine and kind; unlike the condescending looks he was so used to receiving from noblewomen, or those lascivious stares from the street ladies of Denerim. It made him so…_ridiculously_ _happy_ to see her smile at him. He returned her budding smile with one of his own.

_"Fate will lead you to one who is destined to stand vigilant in the shadows, and he will be your savior."_

What had the fortune teller meant by that? Had she been referring to Alistair? He had saved her twice, now. Diora remembered how Lucy, dear Lucy, had once interpreted those words to mean that Diora would be rescued by her destined true love. Suddenly embarrassed for even thinking of Alistair in that light, she dropped her gaze from his and shifted her focus to the pond lilies swaying in the wind. She closed her eyes and allowed the gentle gale to kiss across her face. Her right hand, still healing from the wound it had received, wrapped its fingers tightly around the pendant hanging from the silver chain on her neck.

_'Home. I need to focus on going home.'_

**End of Chapter Five**


	6. Chapter 6: Lothering

**Quick Recap: **Diora's been whisked away from the modern world into Thedas by the evil sorceror Uldred. She first meets the Grey Warden Alistair when she emerges in Thedas, but is quickly captured by the templars who believe she is a demon. Caras, a good-hearted templar, sacrifices his own life to save Diora's after Uldred attempts to kill her. Diora has been reunited with Alistair and his companions Aedan Cousland and Morrigan. Flemeth, Morrigan's mother, reveals to Diora how she can return back to her world: she must obtain the mirror from which she emerged, the stars must be aligned in the same position they were in on the morning she arrived in Thedas, and she needs a powerful mage to cast the spell for her to go back home. She has now embarked on a journey to with the Grey Wardens to help them in their quest to defeat the Blight, and they have promised to help her get the mirror back from Uldred so she can go home.

**Author's Note: **Thanks for stopping by and reading my story. If you're willing, please let me know what you think. I appreciate all reviews, inputs, constructive criticism... For those who have followed "Lost in Thedas" to this point, thank you so much for your support. It keeps me going! =) Special shout out to the following people who have reviewed the story: SmilesElite, Dimples1476, Ariz0na-Sky, Thesweetsong, and Eilonwycousland

**xoxo, Ella**

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**Lost in Thedas**

**Chapter Six: Lothering**

It was their second day of trekking through the wilds.

For Diora, the past two days had been cold, wet, and miserable. She was in the middle of a swamp and learned that wonders of wonders, mosquitoes existed even in Thedas, and they were just as bloodthirsty as they were back home. And worse, they were only targeting her! She supposed that it would be difficult for them to draw any blood from Alistair and Aedan due to their metal armor. And she was sure that witch Morrigan had a spell up her sleeve and wasn't sharing it. Thank goodness for the bottle of mosquito spray she had packed, or else her blood would be sucked dry! She ignored the curious stares that her party members gave her when she doused herself with the chemical.

In addition to the pesky mosquitoes, she was covered in dirt and could feel the germs crawling all over her. Every muscle in her body ached. Her lungs were burning with every breath she took. She was by no means physically out of shape, but having to wade about knee deep in a muddy bog while being constantly weighed down by a forty pound bag was exhausting! She wasn't used to such arduous physical activity, having spent most of her life ambitiously focusing on studying and planning on getting into one of the Ivy League universities before entering a prestigious field, like law or medicine. And everything had gone according to plan.

Until now.

Here she was, lost in Thedas. She spent her days walking and her nights sleeping on a the bare ground with her bag as a pillow. She missed the comforts of home, her soft mattress and warm blanket, decent food... She couldn't wait until they reached the town of Lothering. Yesterday evening, Morrigan had estimated that depending on the weather and the location of the darkspawn horde, it would be another week or two before they reached their destination. _'How the hell am I supposed to survive in this swamp without clean clothes, decent food, and a shower? And for a week or two?!'_

A thick patch of leafy ferns swung into the pathway and slapped Diora in the face. She kiltered off balance and ungracefully landed on the wet muddy ground, her face stinging and her rear end throbbing from the impact. Diora's head snapped up and she returned Morrigan's superior expression with a furious glare. _'She did that on purpose!'_ Diora fumed indignantly of the woman who had been walking the trail in front of her. And how was it that Morrigan still managed to look so alluring and put together in this swamp? There was barely a speck of dirt on the sorceress, and not a single raven lock on her head was out of place. Diora immediately felt clumsy and disheveled next to the woman. She self-consciously rubbed at the splatter of mud on her cheek.

Aedan, who'd been leading the group with Skylos at his side, paused in his tracks and turned around. He sighed sympathetically when he saw Diora, sitting in a heap on the swamp floor, spent and covered in muck. "Let's rest here for a moment," he suggested, walking back over to Diora.

Morrigan rolled her eyes at Aedan and placed her hands on her hips as he walked passed her. "Really, Aedan! Do not allow one tiny slip to slow us down. At this pace, the Darkspawn will find us before we even reach Lothering!"

Alistair, who had been walking behind Diora, knelt down next to her. "Are you all right? Here, let me help you up."

Diora, who really wanted to have a few choice words with Morrigan, felt her anger melt away when she heard Alistair's voice. Alistair. He was so very kind. She gratefully allowed him to help pull her up to her feet. She was surprised at how light she felt in his firm grip. A slight blush rising to her cheeks-thank goodness the lighting was rather gloomy in the swamp-she stammered, "Y-Yes, Alistair, I'm fine. Thanks for asking." He was so very close to her! Not knowing how else to act, and in an effort to hide her bashfulness, she quickly shimmied away from his touch and turned to the other Grey Warden. "Aedan, it's okay. We don't have to stop on my account. Morrigan's right, we should try to reach Lothering as soon as possible."

"All right," Aedan agreed with Diora, "let's keep moving then, if you're sure." Appreciating her resolve, he smiled encouragingly at her. She had earlier intended to wipe some mud from her face and had only managed to smear it further instead. Alistair's face fell and Morrigan pursed her lips in piqued displeasure when Aedan reached up to brush the dirt off her cheek. "You missed a spot," he remarked charmingly.

"O-Oh...thanks," mumbled Diora, desperately hoping that no one could hear how loud her heart was pounding. Even though Aedan's hand had been gloved in cold metal, her cheek burned where he had touched it.

Aedan turned to Alistair and suggested that they switch places. "You take the lead for now with Morrigan, Alistair. I'll take the back with Diora." He then grabbed Diora's pack from her. He brushed off her objections with a winsome grin."Don't worry about it. You'll be able to keep up better this way."

_'Maker damn it all, he's good with the ladies!' _Alistair groaned inwardly. Unable to find a good reason to disagree with Aedan, he begrudgingly nodded and marched on ahead. And Diora, why had she acted as though she couldn't get away from him quickly enough? Did she prefer Aedan over him? _'Of course, that must be it,'_ he sulked to himself. He tried to hide his feelings with a self-depreciating joke about how him leading would lead to everyone getting lost and him probably losing his pants, too.

Which turned out to be quite prophetic. After walking in circles and getting turned around several times that day, the party reached a general consensus that Aedan and Morrigan should lead for the duration of the journey. Even Skylos appeared more eager to lead and had a better sense of direction than Alistair. Diora was initally happy to have Alistair back with her at the rear end of the group, but couldn't help noticing how aloof he was towards her. _'Maybe he's thinking about Duncan and all his friends he lost,'_ she speculated. It was true, of course. Alistair was thinking about Duncan and the others, but unbeknownst to her, she herself also partially contributed to his somber mood.

During the next few days, Diora actually surprised herself by learning how to skin the rabbits and pluck the feathers off the birds that Skylos, Aedan, and Alistair hunted. Rabbit meat was actually tasty, especially when you were starving. She couldn't bring herself to try the frogs, despite Aedan's assurances that frog legs tasted like chicken meat. Staying busy kept her distracted from her own terrible predicament and made her feel like a useful member of the group. Alistair continued to sulk and avoid her, so she instead tried her hand at initiating a few conversations with Morrigan. The sorceress was nowhere near as pleasant company as her friends back home, but Diora was grateful for some female company all the same. Morrigan's magic had even come in handy. She could start a fire at the snap of her fingers! Morrigan had been taken aback at Diora's remark that magic might be handy after all, but the dark haired enchantress immediately squashed any feelings of regard she had towards the girl from another world.

* * *

_'I guess gangsters exist in whatever world you live in.'_

A group of thugs stopped them outside of Lothering, demanding a 'toll fee' for entry into the village. Diora studied the group of men in their leather armor and weapons in hand. One of the members had a particularly nasty scar across one eye. He looked at her with his good eye and brought his dagger up to his lips and licked it salaciously. She cringed. She stood silently and safely in the back of the group behind Skylos and Morrigan while Aedan and Alistair attempted to persuade the bandits to move aside. The bandit who appeared to be second in command happened to glance over at her and whispered something into his leader's ear. The leader of the group followed his accomplice's gaze and rested his eyes on Diora. They scanned up and down over her several times before the leader nodded his head in understanding.

Diora furrowed her brows and bit her lips nervously. Why were they so interested in her? Perhaps it was her clothes...? After all, she wasn't exactly dressed like the others. She was wearing a pink hoodie, skinny blue jeans, and a pair of knee-high brown leather boots. Or maybe they wanted her duffle bag in exchange for passage?

"Say, my accomplice Hanric tells me that your companion there in the very back-"

"Keep her out of this!" Alistair vehemently interrupted the highwaymen's boss. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword, pulling it slightly from its scabbard.

"-the templars are offering a reward for a girl matching her description."

"WHAT?!" Diora's heart fell. The blood drained from her face. A giant lump rose up in her throat, making it hard for her to breath. _'The templars...are looking for me!'_

"You little fool! You just gave yourself away!" Morrigan whispered furiously underneath her breath, poking Diora in the ribs with a terribly sharp elbow.

It was too late. Everyone had seen Diora's reaction.

"Well, well! By the expression on her face, looks like she might be the girl they're looking for," the leader of the gang smugly observed. He widened his stance and crossed his arms across his chest. "So, we'll let you by for say...10 silvers. Throw in another 10 silvers, and we'll keep quiet about your little friend there."

Extortion. This incensed Diora. She clench her fists. She glared at the leader with gleaming eyes that appeared more icy blue than the blue-grey they usually were. "YOU! How dare you! Just who do you think you are and what gives you the right to treat other humans like this?! You disgust me!"

"Oh, she's a feisty one!" the leader observed. He changed tactics. "How about we take her off your hands for 20 silvers?"

"Why, you...!" snarled Alistair.

"Make it 30 and she's all yours," chuckled Morrigan, holding up three fingers on her right hand.

Diora's jaw dropped at her companion's counter offer. "Morrigan! You can't be serious!"

Aedan shook his head. "No, there are some things that can't be sold for any price! Besides, do you really want threaten a Grey Warden?" he threatened them, his deep blue eyes blazing coldly.

"A Grey Warden! They're the ones who betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar and led him to his death. Teryn Loghain put quite a bounty on their heads," remarked Hanric.

The leader of the group cracked his knuckles in anticipation. "So, I see... A two for one...! Let's collect that bounty, then, boys!" he rallied his gang.

The skirmish was over in a matter of minutes. The bandits, thankful to still be alive, scurried off in a cloud of dust. They had been no match for Alistair and Aedan's sword skills or Morrigan's debilitating magic. When the fighting broke out, the first thing Morrigan did was cast a telekinetic force field shield over Diora. Diora didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was quite taken away at how capable Morrigan was. While being protected behind the force field, Diora had been mesmerized by the blue and white chains of lightning and the freezing white claws of ice that erupted from the end of Morrigan's twisted wooden staff.

The barrier dissolved, and Diora was able to move once more. She breathed a deep sigh of relief and turned to the raven-haired sorceress. "Morrigan...thank you for protecting me."

Morrigan looked as though she were going to be sick. She suddenly closed her eyes and loftily held her head high up in the air. "I...'Twas nothing, really. Besides, I had to do something, less you get injured and slow us down even more."

Diora pursed her lips and felt a little vein tick on her forehead. _'That woman...! Why does she have to turn everything into an insult?!'_ she griped mentally.

"We were able to take some coin off their hands, too. This should be enough to replenish our supplies before we continue our journey." Aedan weighed the leather pouch in his hands and listened to the satisfying jingle of the contents inside.

"Hopefully, they won't be back to bother the other refugees escaping north from the darkspawn," Alistair mused. He sheathed his sword and dusted off his hands. He gazed longingly at Diora, but refrained from going to her. He'd tried to limit his contact with her since that incident in the Wilds. _'And of course I'm sure she'd rather prefer Aedan to me,'_ he dejectedly told himself. And he couldn't blame her for it. Aedan Cousland was a natural leader and a skilled swordsman. He was also handsome, brave and chivalrous, even to a fault. And he certainly had a charismatic way with the opposite sex. Alistair felt awkward and uncultured besides his fellow silver-tongued Grey Warden.

Diora paid little mind to her companions as they discussed amongst themselves the next course of action. Her thoughts were on what that bandit had said. The templars were looking for her. Why? What would the templars do to her if they found her? Were they still planning of taking her to Aeonar to be executed for being a demon? She thought she'd been past all that...

* * *

"You, there. Halt!"

"Eek!" Diora froze when a gloved hand grabbed her on the shoulder. Its owner turned her around and Diora felt sick to her stomach when she saw a shield emblazoned with a fiery sun. The last time she had seen one of those, things had not turned out well for her...

Aedan, Alistair, and Morrigan were inside Lothering's chantry trying to gather information. After learning that there was a party of templars keeping guard inside, Diora had refrained from going in, and after a few minutes of contest, Aedan had reluctantly agreed to allow her to wait outside with Skylos as guard. She hadn't expected to be stopped by a templar outside of the chantry.

"Who are you?" the templar questioned her.

"Um..." Diora was at a loss for words. _'Oh, crap! What should I say...? What if he knows I'm the one they're looking for...?'_ she thought frantically. To her horror, she saw a flicker of recognition in the templar's eyes. He narrowed them at her and shifted his head in thought.

"Hmm...now that I think about it..." he started.

Skylos bared his teeth and snarled at the templar. Then he started barking. Loudly.

Diora winced and held her hand over Skylos to calm him down. "No, no, Skylos...Down, boy," she tried to hush the Mabari to no avail.

"Excuse me, Ser, is there a problem?"

Diora breathed a sigh of relief when Aedan called out. She heard his footsteps descend the chantry's stairs and he was quickly at her side. "Hush, Skylos," he told the barking hound. Skylos, seeing that his master was here to handle the situation, did as Aedan asked and stopped barking, but remained closed and continued snarling at the templar.

The templar turned to Aedan. So this was the Grey Warden. He'd heard rumors that they were in town. They had supposedly betrayed King Cailan at Ostagar. Still, the templars had found it hard to believe that the Grey Wardens could do such a thing. But why was the Warden here now? "Nothing that concerns a Grey Warden," he answered.

"When you have your hand on my companion, it concerns me," Aedan answered, a grave expression crossing his face.

"This woman matches a description of a fugitive the templars are looking for. She escaped on route to Aeonar six weeks ago and is considered to be an extremely powerful and dangerous maleficar."

Aedan suddenly laughed heartily, surprising the templar and drawing the attentions of those nearby. His royal blue eyes twinkled with mirth and he pulled Diora from the templar's grasp. Then, to everyone's astonishment, he declared, "She's just a serving girl from Highever that I rescued in Ostagar. And...she is my lover!" Then, as if to drive the point home, Aedan lowered his head a placed an affectionate, lingering kiss of Diora's cheek.

"Oh! Uh-my-oh-a-apologies, Grey Warden, Ser!" stammered the templar. He didn't know what to make of this Grey Warden, and was suddenly very embarrassed to be viewing what he believed to be an intimate act between lovers. He couldn't get away from the pair quickly enough. "Damned Grey Warden...!" he muttered under her breath as he scuttled away.

Aedan chuckled to himself as the templar walked off. "Well, that was quick thinking on my part. One can always expect a templar to be flustered when it comes to matters of love, since they are forbidden such fruits." he prided himself. He pulled away from Diora, who was too mortified to even breathe or look him in the eyes. "You'll have to forgive me, Diora. I'm afraid I may have given you a bad reputation in Lothering. But that will keep the templars from bothering you, at least. Come on, let's go and set up camp..."

Diora wordlessly stood in place for some time, watching Aedan's retreating back and Skylos, scampering at his master's side. His long white blond hair, tied in a ponytail, swayed gently back and forth with each step he took. She lifted her hand to feel the scorching flesh where Aedan had placed lips. Back home, of course she'd be thrilled if anyone as charming and good looking as Aedan paid attention to her. And of course she was grateful he'd saved her just now, but..._'__Talk about flustering the templar? What about how flustered I am right now?! __Wh-WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!'_

Diora felt a sharp jab in her ribs as Morrigan roughly bumped into her on while walking up the path after Aedan. The blow caused Diora to stumble in place and knocked her duffle bag to the ground. Morrigan continued on. Her alluring features were masked in icy snobbery, her fine pert nose held high in the air and her violet lips pursed in displeasure. "Hey, you...!" Diora started to shout after her.

"Here, don't let her get to you," said Alistair. He picked up her pack from the dusty road. "You need to take better care of your pack, especially here in Lothering. The people here are desperate, and they might try stealing it from you."

The somberness in his voice struck a chord in Diora. She glanced up at him and was taken aback by the deep sadness in his handsome face. "Alistair...are you...? Is everything all right?"

He smiled at her halfheartedly and replied, "Yeah, I'm fine. And it's a good thing Aedan was able to think quickly, or that templar might have captured you."

Diora suddenly felt the pressing need to explain that Aedan's kiss hadn't meant anything to her. She licked her lips and earnestly started, "Alistair, I-"

Alistair held up a hand to silence her. "It's okay, you don't have to say anything," he cut her off. "Here, let's just go and set up camp. I'll carry your pack over for you."

It was a quiet walk back.

* * *

Lothering was not the retreat that Diora had thought it would be. She had expected a soft bed, a decent meal, and a hot bath. Instead, the village was crippled with fear and hopelessness over the looming Darkspawn threat. Refugees fleeing from the south kept trickling in, with terrible stories of how the darkspawn came and destroyed and corrupted everything with their taint. There was a food shortage and the party had to make do camping outside in the overcrowded fields with the refugees.

"Ah, look how they moan and wail and gnash their teeth. 'Tis sad to watch how helplessly they scurry about," Morrigan observed sarcastically.

"This is what war looks like...all this suffering...!" Diora was all too aware of the privileged and sheltered life she had led back home. The scenes she had watched on the television from her living room were no where near the magnitude of the suffering she was observing with her own eyes. It made her heart ache to see the hollow, hopeless stares of the sick and injured and the longing looks starving children gave her when they begged her for food.

They stayed in Lothering for three days, during which the party recuperated. Alistair and Aedan earned some money by helping the locals with traps, poisons, and getting rid of bears and yet another group of bandits. And Alistair...what was up with him? He'd barely said a word to her all week, let alone look at her.

Diora, tired of being useless, tried to help out by tending to the sick with the town elder Miriam, actions which led Morrigan to sneer at her with disdain and scoff something about "survival of the fittest."

''I just can't sit by and do nothing. Besides, it will help earn some coppers for us. Alistair and Aedan are doing what they can to help, and I feel like I have to as well," Diora had responded. Sure, Morrigan irritated the heck out of her, but she actually felt sorry for her female companion. _'__I suppose it's because she was raised in the Wilds all her life. __I'm sure life in the Wilds was lonely for her. She probably doesn't even know how to be a friend...' _Diora figured.

Aedan and Alistair also recruited two new members to the party. The first was a 'sister' from the local 'chantry' named Leliana. They met her while buying drinks at the tavern. The redhead with the the soft blue eyes and sultry French (Diora would soon learn it was actually 'Orlesian') accent had at first appeared to be quite mild-mannered and gentle. Diora would have never guessed just by looking at her how deadly she was with a pair of knives and a bow and arrow. Leliana demonstrated exceptional fighting skills helping Aedan, Alistair, and Morrigan in a bar brawl against some of Teryn Loghain's soldiers. Her pleas to join the group because the Maker (God, Diora guessed) had spoken to her in a vision to aid the Grey Wardens against the Blight were a little bit out there, but who was she to judge? Diora surmised that people might think she was crazy, too, if she told people the truth about where she really came from. She was relieved when Aedan allowed Leliana into the fold. It was a welcome change to have another female to talk to in the group.

The following day after recruiting Leliana, the group had stumbled upon a prisoner named Sten on the outskirts of town. He joined the party after Leliana was able to persuade the Revered Mother to release him into the Grey Wardens' custody. Diora, who hadn't been with the party when Sten joined them, met him later that day at camp. She learned that in addition to elves, dwarves, werewolfs, and darkspawn, Thedas was also home to a race known as the Qunari. Sten, with his metallic golden skin, vivid violet eyes, and his corn-rowed white hair pulled back into a ponytail, belonged to that race. He was also at least seven feet tall (Diora barely reached his chest) and pure muscle. His size alone was intimidating, but his strong square face and lack of facial expressions made him more so. And then there was the story about how he'd murdered that family in the farmstead. And it was all true!

Diora didn't quite know how to act around Sten. More than once, he'd catch her staring at him at camp and grunt. She would immediately look away, embarrassed (and let's admit it, just a little bit terrified). When she finally gathered the courage to go up to him, introduce herself, and apologize for gawking, he'd replied, "You mock me, or you show manners I have not come to expect in your lands."

Diora laughed nervously and immediately backed away. She waved her hands in front of her apologetically. "Oh, no, no, no! I'm not mocking you, I promise!"

_'If I was on my guard, then you would be on your guard, too, and I don't want that.'_

Diora blinked back tears as she recalled Caras's words. Engraving those words on her heart, she stripped off her inner armor and gazed widely and openly into Sten's eyes. It was as though she were seeing him for the first time. And then she realized something about her new companion. "You, see, Sten...I'm far from home, too," she said softly, choking back the tide of homesickness that swelled up behind her throat and constricted her chest.

Sten's white brows furrowed and the corners of his lips dipped into a perplexed frown. Before he could question her, Diora smiled encouragingly and gave him a small, acknowledging nod before turning around and walking away. He didn't see it before, but now... There was a strength in her. Not the physical prowess of a warrior or the magical talents of a mage. It was something deeper... and more profound.

* * *

"You're sure it's the girl?"

"Y-yes! I'm sure of it! She's in Lothering and was accompanied by two Grey Wardens and a female mage!" Hanric bumbled to the hooded figure. He gladly took the small pouch of coins she tossed his way and was only too eager to scramble off when she said, "Get out of my sight. People like you make me sick."

From beneath the hood, a pair of emerald green eyes studied the sketching of the girl's face on the piece of parchment before crushing it with her hands. So the mirror demon had attached herself to the two remaining Grey Wardens, huh? She was sure that her contact from the Circle and his cohorts would find this piece of news interesting. She removed her hood, revealing golden yellow hair that had been neatly plaited into a long braid down her back, and pulled out a shard of mirror.

"Uldred...are you there?"

The cool surface undulated in a hazy violet swirl. Uldred's face appeared from the other side.

"What news do you have?" Uldred asked his hired assassin.

"I've found her. She's about a day's journey from here, in Lothering. And you may be interested to know she's traveling with the Grey Wardens."

"The Grey Wardens... Hmm... Do not engage the Wardens. You know your mission. The girl is what's important. You know what to do, Vara. Do not fail."

Vara's eyes gleamed with hatred and determination. "I won't fail. I swear I will get my revenge on that bitch who murdered my brother."

**End of Chapter Six**

* * *

**FROM THE AUTHOR: So, how did you like Chapter 6? Please let me know! I appreciate all reviews and inputs readers have. I've already started work on the next chapter, and I'm really excited at how it's going to play out for our heroine and her companions. i'm typing as fast as I can. I can't wait to share it with you guys once its complete and edited. As always, thank you so much for reading and for your continued support! xoxo, Ella**


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